Soul Of The Writer.

This is really still a work in progress I think, but I guess I tied it off and felt it is time to put it on here. It was written up awhile back.

I woke up in the morning and I said to myself
read to myself.
I saw the soul of how I roll the dice
Noticed that the world started to cry
Just outside my window.
So I took the time
Placed on the paper

The soul of the writer

the one I know I hold.

You and I
We write, we cry, we die,
We smile, we craft our own style,
That is life for the soul of the writer.

We’ve walked to the ends of the earth,
We’ve seen the very extent of our worth.
Our work sees the ends of time
With every line and stanza we write
With every single rhyme.

You and I
We write, we cry, we die,
We smile, we craft our own style,
That is life for the soul of the writer.

So they may criticize but they will never realize,
As statues and monuments crumble,
The paper and the pen will never stumble.
So as time goes by we’ll give those few a grin,
They will never win.

You and I
We write, we cry, we die,
We smile, we craft our own style,
That is life for the soul of the writer.

Reviews

[O!]

Really like this...the first verse I read a couple of times but something isnt just right in that...(also typo: dice)....for from there is Fantastic!!...very humble and true.

x,
O!