Another night, another archived poem.

(So yeah, I was digging through my archive while updating the website. What did I find? My first (and only) attempt at poetry in prose format. Hope you guys enjoy.)

Title: Reflections.

The words in my mind
Always shifting and changing
Inking their way onto the page
Even then, never concrete

~

Stories and tales twist and turn
Characters are born and die
Events all, large and small
Take place in my mind’s eye

~

My mind sees and my fingers type
In my craft, I am merely the adapter
From mental projection to page
For these stories ever telling

~

To me, there is no greater home
Than being buried in the canvas
That is the blank-white page
Ready to receive my words

~

I read the news every day
I play these games every night
I watch the films as they come
I read books as they print

~

In the end, for me
There is no greater home
Than sitting here, at my desk
Buried in my proverbial tome

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