RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Looking from inner windows, realizing life is racing past and not caring.
Sacrificing daily increments of sanity to sit and write.
Forever searching endless pathways of the mind, locating words and new ways to line them into expressions of feelings and ideas.
Thrill of actually feeling new thoughts creates within me an obsession to keep on writing.
Feelings felt through words is inspiring to inner sanctums of an alive mind.
Touching upon meanings filled with inner peace, writing fulfills the need in me to create continually.
With pen in hand, a whole new world opens up before me written in words on once blank paper.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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