InkA Poem by The Little Writer
Inside the room, he sits, looking at the endless emotion diplayed on the parchment he is looking at. He writes, adds more emotion to the page. His pen flows across it. The sun starts to come up with it's vibrant rays. He smiles, for he is happy with his creation. He is finished. He walks out the door, ready for what the world has in store.
© 2009 The Little WriterAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on February 17, 2009 Last Updated on March 23, 2009 AuthorThe Little WriterDon-Mage, WAAboutI am 12 years old. I am now rewriting my abandoned book, "The Dwen Alliance" I started out my writing life when my mother signed me up for a writing class at my co-op school. My "career" really k.. more..Writing
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