She gave me this pretty brown book.
I started writing and the ground shook..
My spirit soared up to high places.
The greatest of Grace's,
My mused has arrived,
My spark multiplied,
My lightning supplies,
All these treasures that I find.
Standing still, I feel like I am in different places.
If my spirit was polar,
I'd be holding all aces.
She bought me this little brown book.
You should have seen the look on my face as I turned over blank pages.
Elated in stages,
Can't keep this bird in a cage any longer.
What's been killing me has only made me stronger.
I need to renew,
To create,
To Express,
After all in the mirror, there is only oneself to impress.
©terrylin53
T