I need not lift this pen
And place its nib upon the page
To let you know that deep in me
Wells magma of my rage.
For rightly silence works
As I am sure my eyes shout strong
But when I place this point to page
It's shouting to the throng.
More audibly I speak
Through what this pen of mine has shown
Releasing here my words this way
I find my rage has flown
Like clouds before the wind
And yet I know it is not wrong
To tell the world and you with pen
I sing an ancient song.
excellent!
I hope you don't mind that I critique your work. I find it sustaining and fresh. I too get release by writing and that is the therapy of my soul. I like this one very much. It reminds me of how I leave my sorrow on the page when I put my heart in what I write.
Jessica