The words appear on the paper
Its magic.
The magic has the power to heal my soul.
It can cover up the scars that time has left.
Sentences float down from my mind
And find a spot on the paper.
Because poetry is magic.
Poetry is love.
As letters form words and words form lines
And the lines form stanzas,
The magic works.
The magic heals my soul.
The magic is poetry.
Kylee Bartz
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-187/
