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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.