My Pen - Poem by Edwina Reizer
I found the pen while in my bed.
So many words were invading my head.
Where were they coming from, these words I heard?
They came so fast that they all were blurred.
I placed the pen upon the page
and the words escaped my heady cage.
How long had they been captive in my brain?
As I started to write it released my pain.
And so it became my way to heal,
easing the sorrow that I did feel.
Consumed with sadness, confused from loss
I now had a way to finally cross
Into a valley of sanity again
and bring my anguish to an end.
And so my pen is treasured every day.
It allows me peace as I make my way.
Comments about My Pen by Edwina Reizer
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye