Freedom of Thought

She sits and writes her soul away Upon a page, with blotted ink, Her smile scribed to make one think, Gone to the drawer, for another day. She writes again, and finds her groove, She sits in happy solitude, Her hand dancing in the rhythm of thought As emotions are found, freed and caught. And then Tomorrow comes around, And a poem is rattling in a drawer abound To an aging mind, and a youthful spirit, Waiting for someone like you to hear it.