Poem -

My pen .

My pen .

Rain down my window pane , blue words to yellow , certainly hard to explain, but I wish I could sing you a tune , but my pen always speaks much more . I build roads to the golden cliffs out near a sleepy sea town , yet she inks my misery and sweet beauty the world gives me . My roar  most certainly hides my inner pains , and her cousin bliss My pen tho she reveals my soul .

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