Tower Poem by Rachel Stoddard

Here i am,
down in my room, while up in a tower
my mood and thoughts
are writing a novel.

sometimes i feel so foolish,
the words won't flow,
seems as though
nothing will go right

i hug my panda bear tight
and everything goes away

the words start to flow again,
but the time is getting later
Or Perhaps earlier?
11,12,1,2am
time to finally rest
and look into my mind's crytal ball
again.

And sometimes, i can see
what could be, could've been,
or perhaps a new plot?