• This pen, it is my weapon
    These words, they are my war
    This poem is the prize
    For which I am fighting for

    This paper, it is my battlefield
    These lines, they’re like my gun
    These stanzas are my cannons
    From which my enemies run

    This pen, it is my heart
    These words, they are emotions
    This poem is my love
    In which I put my hope in

    This paper, it is my school
    These lines, they are the halls
    These stanzas are the loving arms
    That catch me when I fall…