I might be the writer
but you'll always be the words,
without you in them
they are just plain scattered words.
You fill my pages with beauty
and give colors to my pen,
with you in my life
I know I will write again.
These pens and papers
are thankful too,
as they could create something precious
which is all because of you.
So, to you, my dear inspiration
my rhyme, my word, my soul,
I offer these lines
as these poems of mine unfold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem