I write these lines down
With this pen in my hand
With this heart in my chest
Wanting to take a stand
These lines mean so much to someone
And nothing at all to everyone
But to me it means more
Then just scribbles behind a closed door
These lines are full of power
They are pointless and smart
My hand aches from then because
It's the only muscle that works harder than my heart
These are the lines
You wished you wrote down
I'll admit to the truth
They are entirely smooth
I want to keep up the writing
And I bet you want more
But why? These lines are just scribbles
Behind a closed door.
Jared Bradford
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/behind-a-closed-door/
