My Stories

February 4, 2020

Alarms sound and I snap awake my head fills with ideas ready to make their way into words on a page they flow freely out of their cage oh, the worlds I see distant lands that could never be waiting to make the journey from thoughts to a tale to a story

An idea in sight I start to write Of ancient fights and long dark nights and kids with kites and wise old knights that see the plights of a boy at night who longs to take flight away from a fight with an evil might that sets its sights on a world in strife

Of men with hoods and stolen goods in an ancient woods defended by a being that won't be seen until it rains and all that remains of the thieves is their screams and the pieces of the recesses that ceases to be.

Of each idea I'm proud Even if they're not accepted by the crowd They can hate them, they're allowed but I can't hear them from the cloud on which I write, on which I stand I don't care if they don't understand I said it before: I'm proud Am I talking too loud?

I can't get the ideas out fast enough I can never craft enough Worlds or stories or tales or times Legends or fables or scenes or rhymes They rush out in a torrent of rage All fighting their own fight to reach the page Some see the light of day Others only ever see the grave How do I choose which make it? yup! You guessed it! I make it up! These ideas are mine and mine alone and for that, I shall never atone For in this world of endless uncertainty My stories are the one thing you can never take from me

#Poetry #Writing #Excitement #StreamOfConsciousness