He is propelled with a quest,
An urge to put on paper, lead
And move with a flow
To jot the thoughts in his head.
It’s like a race,
With words tumbling over each other.
Or trying to find a piece of a puzzle
Or as scrabble the gain of another double.
It is a gift, his ability to combine
Words and phrases making sentences.
An avenue, a vent of putting out ideas
And releasing them at different stages.
I think he’s clever, him with that lead And the manner to script what I would
Have verbally said.
He has something I wish I had
For long after he can find
The thoughts that walked the corridors of his mind.
And who should oppose him, with the lead,
His sword to cut through a heap of oral chaos
And from imagination create a piece of poetry or prose.
He has a willingness to write,
He is apt to, it is his drive.
And I am convinced that even though it is his choice,
It is also his right.Thus I am left inspired, entertained
And challenged by whatever he writes.
R A P
NIFCA Bronze Award