The poet sits in lonely isolation
Dancing with words plucked from his soul
Beauty appears with his creation
While above the storm is raging
No one sees his loneliness
Just the beauty on the page
The words of his art keep him company
Making him feel alive
He writes in the day ge writes in the night
Becomes too tired to sleep
As long as he paints a picture in words
He drinks of eternal life
blindwilderness.wordpress.com 
aww so nice! It is a lonely thing, sometimes, writing. Xx
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It can be, Carol Anne
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💕
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🤗💖 Writing makes me feel alive, too.
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It’s great isn’t it Jenna. For me, it is all I can do now and in the absence of being ablr tovdo anything else ai am so glad I had this. I can seebthat it makes you feel alive too.mmimlove all yourcwriting but especially yourvrelugioys writing 💕💕💕
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