With a biro scribble down the lines
No Fountain pen,no Rorsach blots, no nibs
Lots of paper needed every time.
Words are are hewed from rock the’re never glib
Laptops message easier to write
Yet they use no muscles,axe nor line
No hands are wrung no paper pierced,no fight.
The brain is severed from the hand unkind.
If there is a written script it sells
It conveys it’s vision through the hands, the heart
It’s not just to the brain but every cell
Heal yourself by feeling not by charts
Walk about with pockets full of pens.
Every word on every line makes sense
How my heart sings 