Surging from my mind,
like a stream after winter's thaw,
words flow down upon this paper,
fresh and poignant and raw.
Upon this paper, lined and white,
thoughts are newly born.
From a soul comes forth emotion,
tattered, tired and worn.
Reflections of experiences,
brought forward from a life.
Upon this paper lie memories,
of happiness and strife.
A little corner of my world,
for everyone to see.
Here, is where I share with others.
Upon this paper...is me.
Ive always said poetry is the soul on paper....