Sometimes it’s like a playground
Where I can run hard
And be anything I want.
My would-be journeys
Fall from my pen
Onto the paper
Giving life to my dreamy ideas.
The page holds none
Of my deficits.
Just my potential.
My brightest and best.
At times, my pen is too heavy
No jumping and skipping
On those days.
Here, I can safely be way too honest.
I can cry or cheer or kick or expose
And He [God] doesn’t budge.
He only draws me to Him.
When I put pen to paper,
I am grateful.
What an unexpected asset…
This arena in my head
That is a natural stress reliever.
I can step away from my daily routine
And jump knee-deep into an adventure.
Or I can paint a beautiful picture with words
Of the joys of my everyday life.
I can tell a story
Or pen a note to a friend.
It keeps me, somehow.
It challenges me.
It perpetuates Hope within me.
I think He designed it that way.
At least, for me.
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