An abstract poem written on how it sometimes feels to be artistic. An abstract poem of the reoccuring thoughts of a writer like me...

A Writer's Note

There are words
In which, portray themselves in the sky
These same words are found in the leaves on the trees
And some writers call them poetry
Yet they are called nature...
Falling into the perception
That everything has a synonym within
The meaning of itself
So we look to find the meaning itself
An we find the words we are looking for
A writer makes a strand of air
Into syllables
But never really into sentences
The same way we watch dominoes fall
A writer's favorite musical note is represented
By the crying out of the space between
Its pen and its paper
Sometimes they all have yellow walls
In which they seek to find
Whereas
The wall might inspire
But instead, find nothing
This is the note of a writer
Filled with nothing but a writers thoughts

Written by Deja Green