Poem- The Words Flow

The words flow

Like a bottle

That fills my glass

It is not my first

And will not be my last

Not even for tonight

As one becomes another

And another until I crash

Falling from the table

It is inevitably smashed

All the pieces

Are strewn about the floor

Searching through them frantically

For the one shining example

I can adore

Heart pumping oh so fast

Hands with never ending movement

Trying desperately to grasp

When that piece is found

Of exceptional quality

I will not have to ask

But will be overcome by the moment

And the feeling of creating something

That will forever last