"The Sunlight"
I am cold,
Things are all composed.
My pen, closed,
With its cover rusted
And the ink all dried.
No, I can't write.
The papers pale,
The Chilling gale.
All dark outside,
No bright eyes to catch an insight...
Suddenly, there's a knock!
I open my eyes,
A ray enters the mind.
Opens the windows wide,
A warm summer breeze!
All around is light!
The sun has covered the sky,
Rejuvenated all the souls
Once cold.
I see those white papers fly,
The cover of the pen roles to a side,
The rusted patches, all washed away,
Ink from the pen drips to make a way.
Everything invites me to write.
The mind smiles
Eyes are filled with shine.
Everything seems to inspire
my thoughts that dance
Eager to be rhymed.
I turne to the window
Thank the warm sunlight
For giving a life
To my words,
And helping me rewrite.
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