When I was a child,
I would scribble letters
To teach myself to do better.
When I was a teenager,
I jotted down lines
To tell myself I was still fine.
When I was young,
I would write through emotions
I thought were the end…
And for my dear life,
I gripped my pen.
As an adult,
I long for the days
When I would write, just to write,
To guide me through the haze
Of this thing we call time
As I still spend my days
Looking above,
Searching for a new,
Unforgettable, yet describable,
Phrase.
–Written by Sandy Heights
Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/RaphaelJeanneret-317105/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=774648″>Raphaël Jeanneret</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=774648″>Pixabay</a>