Pen of the Poet

The pen of the poet
Has been replaced
By the fingertip
As the words fly
Out of the heart
Onto the screen

It’s the only way
That she can be free
Of the gilded cage
That holds her captive

She can only do so much
But she dances still
Letting her words
Free fall
Fly off

Land just right
Wherever they are meant

Then she feels
Just a little bit
As if she got to fly
Herself.

šŸ‘£šŸ’™ Jeanna” Mead
941 a.m. 11.27.18
Www.jeannasoul.com

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