Unheard

My pen glides in soft gentle strokes upon the paper so white. Like a melody that flows among the breeze. It’s words forming into lyrics like a lovers song. My pen is the light even when darkness is as black as the darkest night. My pen creates the rhythm of harmony. Like hearing a sweet voice singing to the ringing of church bells on a warm Sunday afternoon. My pen is the fantasy that I call melody. It sings out in anger. It sings out in laughter. My pen can write the words of passion and desire. Like two partners so caught up in the moment. Making love by the fire. My pen can write you the words of fact or fiction. Like did you know, that if I I put my heart next to yours, they would soon begin to beat as one? Baby that’s true friction. My pen can write the sadness of grief and sorrow. Like the tragedy in death and weaknesses. Fighting in a war that you know you may not come home whole again. We are not always promised another tomorrow. My pen can write you laughter and love. Like the sweetest honey dripping from the honey comb. The taste of your lips pressed against mine. Your voice calling out to me from above. My pen can take you through the deepest emotions with just each word. My pen writes the poetry that is still unheard.
Written By
Kelli R. Hall
Unheard
@CopyrightKRH12

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