When I find this life hard to understand , you’ll find a pen clutched in my hand.
When my thinking starts to stutter, the scratch of the nib helps clear the clutter.
When the days been bad , I’m feeling tense, a few lines written turns crazy to sense.
When the words flow from my hand , I’m rescued from lifes clawing quicksand.
Writing is my haven , for when I feel forsaken, when I feel confused it helps to soothe lifes hard truths.
If you’re feeling lost or forgotten , grab a page and fill it to the bottom.
It does’nt have to make much sense, but try all the same, your imaginations immense.