• Poetry is no difficult thing
    Sometimes you don't even have a form of rhyme scheme
    It comes and it goes
    Soon your pages overflow
    With writings of the night

    I feel a great plight
    My vision starts to fade
    Now I'm stuck at one single page
    My inspiration dies
    Like a fire whispered away...

    I think of the lies
    Of writing with no heart
    A song without morale
    I don't want to be that kind
    So I stop and I feel the rhythm again
    Oh how my heart beats to pick up my pen

    Lovely sweet music will my writings be
    And all will listen
    All will see
    A writer
    A musician
    With a heart
    With understanding
    Unwilling to part.