Origins

I come from a land of paper and ink.

Not that I live there; it’s a place I visit

                when my dreams get trapped in the gate

                in my mind.

I was led there once, thrice perhaps.

                by a very small, yet very tall, man in a

                great blue hat.

He spoke very high, with low notes in his throat,

                and asked me why I did nothing but

                sit and feed on what others made

Flipping through talking leaves and printed

                blocks of words.

I stared aghast, wondering how anyone could

                think that what I did was wrong. He

                shook his head, knowing my thoughts and

Told me that it wasn’t wrong, but it was time

                to move forward, to let out the trapped

                thoughts I kept pinned under the dreams

Of others.

He took my hand, assured my return, and took

                me to a distant land a step away. Blank

                pages in book were put there for you to finish the story.

I come from a land of paper and ink.

Not that I live there, it’s just a place I visit

                when my dreams get trapped in the gate

                in my head.