Short Mos Poems

Ink

Laws of logic were broken  
liquid provided a shoulder to cry on.  
Without hands it gave warm hugs.  
With no voice, it became a voice of  
hope to the emotionally drained.  

Who could've imagined that ink can provide such?  
A voice that reaches far and wide.  
Transportation of words from the brain to the world.  
They say it's ink, I say it is a God of the innermost,  
the ones that turn imagination into reality.