In the depths of my soul, where words do roam, I sculpt a symphony of thoughts unknown. With rhythm and rhyme, I enter the realm of creativity that ascends beyond space and time, a realm where the written word and the spoken word align. A tapestry. I weave a delicate dance of words on the page, expressing joys, sorrow and love that never age. In this realm of poetry I find solace and grace, a sanctuary to wander, a sacred space
I haven't done it much lately, but nonetheless, I really connected with that part of your poem here, because I remember feeling as though it was like a Rubik's cube, right? The complex emotions was like a Rubik's cube or a puzzle. And to be able to piece the ends together, to paint a picture of words, and that just feels so rewarding