Look at my callused hands
What does a girl like me have to write about?
Enter my room, what do you find?
Paper is scattered all around me
Pencils strewn everywhere
I sleep with a pen in my hand
Music blares all around me
My pen continues its journey down the page.
What does it write about?
Is it a sight you imagined to see?
Cross legged, book upon my knee
And the pen; my pen
Forever in my hand.
My eyes on the pages and my mind on the words
The smile smoothed from my face
I bite my lip
Im concentrating
What does a girl like me have to write about?
Look at my callused hands
The pen has taken its toll
The paper strewn around me
The book upon my knee
My mind on the words
What do I write about?
I write about this.
