My Life

Some times I just sit and think
I put pen to paper out comes ink.
Scribbles and scratches up and down
Side to side, round and round.

It makes no sense to those who look
But to me it’s an open book.
All my feelings happy and sad
All my wishes, good and bad.

One scribble looks like a heart
Another looks like a long thin dart.
One looks like a misplaced shape
Another looks like a small round grape.

Each page is never the same
Each mark like a new game.
Whether it is black blue or green
Each mark sets a brand new scene.

Each scene is a brand new day,
In this life set just like a play.
It may be good it may be bad
It may be happy it may be sad.

It is life together or alone
All hard efforts can be shown.
Ill keep my scribbles in my book
Although you don’t understand when you look.

By Jacqui Armstrong