song of myself

1

I celebrate myself, and sing
myself
Words such as these are not mine
But are borrowed from someone
else
They are simply words
Words, words, words as the prince
said

But those are more borrowed words
That flow from the pen of the
other writers

So what words are original?
What words are my own?
What words are yours?

2

Where do these words originate?
They do not just come from the
pen
There must be someone to think of
them

We do it all the time
Talking every single day as long
as we aren’t mute
But words aren’t always
remembered
So they must be unique in order
to linger

Poets, novelists, artists
They’re the ones who hold the
secret
Creative and imaginative they
create them
Words that spark someone’s
interest
Keeping the fire alive within
their head

3

I’m a writer, an artist at hand
Piecing together my world within
my head
Then creating them on the page

Through mediums of graphite, ink,
paint, pastel,
chalk, crayon
Creating both pictures and
sentences
Each telling a story through many
words
Words of my own creation