The Gliding Pen Poem by Jules Mcquistan

A open journal sits on the worn down desk
It's surface want's to embrace the ink of my pen
I stare at it, as thoughts fly by
Skimming over my mind, as swift as a swallow

What will you make me
It's lined surface cries
Old dreams of days gone by
The crippling fear of loneliness

I cry as the pen glides
My mind does the work
Pouring out my woes on the page
Reminding me of stinging failures

Poetry turns into an escape
I silently write down nagging thoughts
All the regrets, and new found hope
It's like a soothing song

It saves me.