The Little Window Called Paper

A poem I wrote in 2009 that was in the 'just write your feelings' period. One of the few from that period felt presentable without completely rewriting.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

There is a house 
but it’s not a home 
home is a place where you love 
My home is a place of creativity 
a place where imagination sings and roars 
where my ideas run wild and free 
This home contains a whole world 
where stories explode and evolve 
This home cannot be visited 
only I can enter and leave 
to escape and vacation away from reality 
inside my head this home resides 
inside this home the world screams 
inside this world the ideas grow then wilt 
I share the ideas, world and house 
with all who are willing to view 
the world of my words 
viewed from the window 
known as paper 
people get a peek of the world 
through that window called paper 
though those who lack imagination and creativity 
are blind to what can be seen 
In the window called paper 
My world is seen 
as they are transferred to words 
Described within sentences 
Written on the paper which is a window 
The window for all to view 
for those willing to read 
that window called paper 

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