by E.A. Paul

Created on: April 08, 2010

Pencil and paper, remains the same.

If no words are written, I go quite insane.

The trees in the woods,

The birds they don't need.

A pencil and paper, to do their deed.

The words they are written,

The words they are seen.

For one is the number, one scene.

Don't pass me by.

Wait another day.

Talk to me today. Or use a pencil and paper.

Without it we're nowhere.

Without it we still search.

Do I need a pencil and paper?

Do I need it to communicate?

I don't think so.

But maybe i do.

For it's pencil and paper.

Come calling me.

Learn more about this author, E.A. Paul.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.