With Pen In Hand

With pen in hand

I sit and wait

Wondering what images

The Muse will deliver.

 

Some are bleak

And pain me so

But I write them anyway.

 

For in doing so

Releases me from

Demons I may not realize.

Or frees me of wounds

Buried long ago

And forgotten.

 

Whether I share them

Or not

Is entirely up

To me.