free verse

~~My pencil in my hand,
Do I know what I’ll say?
How will I craft my work of art?
Will it resemble clay?
Will I form it? Will I shape it?
Will I make it square or round?
Will it be unique and only me?
And will I like the sound?
Crazy glue keeping my pencil
Fastened to my hand.
I’m here to show the beauty
Although I don’t understand.
I feel emotions wandering
From heart, through soul, to vein.
It’s coming from within me but
It keeps missing my brain.
I write it all on paper
For this time I truly know.
I don’t care if it rhymes,
As long as it helps me grow.
The words are shot. (I hope not lost).
I want my mark to stay.
The end result: someone will care;
For that, I hope and pray.
And though I know it will not last.
My job is to obey.
Right now my words
Are free like birds
And last only one day.