Spiral bound secrets,
words drenched in ink;
black and white mementos,
wash over me while I think.
Eyes moving rapidly,
on the hunt for inspiration;
painstakingly irritated,
overcome by exasperation.
A mosaic of memory,
eyes grow heavy, body unwinds;
as I dip into my dreamland,
you won’t believe the things I find.
Miles of imagination,
past memories left behind;
so I pick up my pen and paper,
and write whatever comes to mind.
Jacob Lindell is an eighteen-year-old aspiring artist, whose greatest creation is who he’s yet to become; still a work in progress.