Painting Pictures With Words Poem by Shelly Price

An escape from my reality...
this is what you get when you read what I write.
Writing allows me to grieve or to smile,
It's a warm hug during a lonely night.

My writing gives me wings...
with it I can soar through the sky.
It allows me to dance if I choose,
or it can even hold me while I cry.

I lose myself with my pen in hand...
my writing is an old trusted friend.
It allows me to express the truth within...
It will be with me until the very end.

My writing allows me freedom,
to tell the world a story of me.
My words are arranged in perfect order...
creating an open window for all to see.

I create pictures when I write...
fabulous sights of beauty I draw.
I draw pictures of my broken heart...
or the emotions on my sleeve so raw.

My pictures are drawn with words, not colors.
My art is seen through your imagination.
You must first read the rhythm of what I write...
in order to see my artistic creation.

My words are used to fill my canvas...
an empty page is where I find my start.
My writing is a gift I give to myself...
written from the depths of my beating heart.

I never know what picture I will draw...
until the words flow from my pen to paper.
Writing comes as natural to me...
as a rainbow comes to mother nature.