My Pen

I sit my mind not at rest
Thoughts invade my serenity
A random pattern
Of tiny puzzle pieces
With my pen I attempt
To make sense of it all

Odes to joy and sorrow
Battle to get my attention
I begin composing with a smile
To find tears in the next phrase
I am never sure the direction
My pen will take

Writing is my vehicle to express
What I see what I hear what I feel
At times my mind seems to be so full
I can not stuff another thought inside
Yet they still continue
My pen has much to say

But why do I complain
What does it accomplish
Am I to rage at inspiration
The very influence that
Allows me to speak
Its message with my pen