Fountain pen
from which ink flows
as my brain pulls thoughts
from scattered places;
out onto paper,
dark ink bleeds
onto the tracks
disturbing my train
of thought.
these lines are cages,
they help not to aid me;
let me spill these words
feely
from the flow of this
fountain
pen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
inks flow from fountain pen, meaningful.