Picking up my pen, I begin to pursue my purpose,
slaving away, I sacrifice subjects until I submit work,
suffice with a deeper surface.
Gaining growth and wisdom within my writer’s gravity,
I am grateful to gaze,
and watch as my words wonderfully unite
to whisper and shout in worthy ways.
Drawing artistic dreams,
I dictate and decide the next topic to describe,
whether venting anger or reciting vibrant value;
I aim to paint a victorious vibe.
Masterminding the masterpiece of matter and material
in a meaningful lyrical marriage,
I continue to contemplate and combine careful words
to convey emotion and courage.
Bountifully blessed with creative beauty and belief;
I became the poetical blacksmith,
fabricating fabulous fables
with a sense of fearless frailty forthwith.
I am amply able to inspire ambition and accordingly achieve,
with my notepad navigating toward noteworthy
after being notorious naïve.
I think therefore I am,
I write because I can.
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