Why do words on paper
Form in Scan and Rhyme,
When I pick up my pen and write,
Now, and Time after Time?
Where do the words come from,
That flow and into my Mind drop?
From HIM Above they come now,
I hope they’ll never stop.
I wish to write more poetry,
I want to express my view
Of how I’ve lived my Life,
And relate the facts to you.
Why in Poetry do I write them,
The Events ~ My History ~ My Life?
The Good Times that I’ve experienced,
As well as my Troubles and Strife.
Why cannot I write a Story,
And in Prose describe my thought,
Instead of writing in this form,
As these Poems are to you brought?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An enjoyable write; reminds me of my own poem entitled 'Todays great Undead Poets'; perhaps you would like it.