A pen to write a story,
A paper to script it down.
These are combined forces, a song, not yet sung.
Everyday I come to this corner,
My imagination- wild.
And then it takes me to the place,
But I guess I was just blind.
The imagination inside me burst out its flames,
Opening, a new door of possibilities.
I roam around this world,
While it simply makes me smile.
A new world every day,
Etched in my paper, and pen.