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Scribble

Thinking, walking, running in circles

Hungry hands searching, reaching out

On a cool morning, still dark

Nothing, blank, stunned, gone

Found a crayon as I ran against the wind

Picked it up and began to scribble

Making images of the future

Visions of rivers drowning into the ocean

My hand became enraged

Overpowered my will

I tried to stop but could not

Pulse increased, breathing hard

Images slowly turned into words

These must be heard, read and known

For the letters and vowels spelled

This branded in my soul

Running through my veins

Burning at both ends

Your name

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