THE ART OF MY DREAMS
THE ART OF MY DREAMS by Dreamy Poetess It's not about the metre, nor about the rhyme, That matters when I sit, dictated by the time. And it doesn't matter if I don't share the line. It's about what comes out when the moment is mine. When thoughts continuously come after another, I couldn't help but write, my mind's full of wonder. Emotion, on its height, expands even greater, Although poems don't end happily ever after. I am not good at using highfalutin words. I'm struggling with diction, the same way as with chords. Writing was hard for me without seeing the boards. With no models, my thoughts run on different roads. They say for a writer, everything has a sense. You need to have that weirdness, and thoughts will commence. Emotions magnify, as if you have a lens. Then start to write them but be careful of the tense. It doesn't matter how many stanzas are there, For it's my way of letting my feelings lay bare. It is where I put my joy ...