I'll Be WhereThe Pen Flows

I wouldn't say I like a blank page,

Pages are meant to be written on,

Every thought, every fantasy;

Every dream, every story,

Your fingers working the pen,

Dipped in ink;

Connecting your brain to the page,

Creating a pretty river of words,

From your imagination,

Or your truth,

Just like the waves crashing to the shore,

Never stopping until it ends,

A writer's dream going from the mind,

To a printed story,

Every word created by an individual's

personal stamp,

Perfected until the page is not blank anymore,

If you find me drunk on words,

I'll be where the pen flows,

Like blue wine.