Tonight again I woke from sleep
Epiphanies hang to grab
I rush to ramble papered thoughts
With scribbles stomping mad
Put a line here to a line there
Why not a poem or two
Inventions written ‘till they feed
Run ramped and as mute
For it will seem I lack some sound
In the constructs of my mind
But its okay my visions dance
To sing a song as mime
And so I end this nightly task
With papers thrown around
Of all new patterns I can see
For asking why and how
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. I know exactly what you mean! ~Ray