I come to you oh pen and paper

I come to you oh pen and paper

my stories to recite,

and yet we talk not to each other,

what can I do this plight.

You are the friend, the family,

The one to whom I count,

The words, the steps, the paints of lust,

so we may share this sight.

You listen not, you tarry long,

you do your own willing,

I wait, I pine, for words of love,

frustration under-pinning.

My words my songs, my gallantries,

my fables, stories long,

Can not but leave my prison's mind,

if you don't sing your song.

Sing oh pen on paper,

flow like Brahma's song,

The river flows through bay's and valleys

Flow now do not wait long.

Before you know your lover,

will die a humble death,

his songs forgotten, his fables rotten,

On your lap with his head.