I feel like every cell in me
Is holding a pen and writing about you
The writings weren't words
They were vibrations and waves
Waves carrying the deepest secrets
Their frequencies are extraordinary
They're not heard
But understood truly
By the few of the fewest creatures
I don't know
If they'll convey music that will make the world dance or just cry
Ugh, then for a moment the pens drop
YOU ARE READING
Fe
Poetry"Science is not only a disciple of reason. But also, one of romance and passion"-Stephen Hawking
