Inspiration's Truth Poem by Michelle Benjamin

I sit down and find the leaves rustling as though rhythm that the wind makes.
I also hear the birds chirping i do hope i see the nightingale i hear it sings as beautiful as it's name.
Then an orange slice so sweet to absorb but is gotten from such a thorny soul.
And just then i decide to take a little stroll for inspiration, and here i am again taking a sit to find out i have already begun, and I ask.
What then inspiration? ? ? ? ? ? ?
It is merely only the imagination of a writer seeking for concentration.
And why then shall i yearn and seek for inspiration? ? ? ? ? ? .
For truly it is within man's imaginations