I like this ink

i like the way this ink
paints
a picture in my mind and on
the page.
how it flows,
and goes,
and writes itself out.
the pain, the love,
the heartbreak.
work and life.
sex and death.
dogs and cats, kids and food.
i write about the train
leaving
and the train arriving
over and over again.
i'm always there,
waiting, or waving farewell.
i'll keep at as long as i
can.
as long as there is time
and health, i'll pound
away at these
keys and write my story.
for better worse. and if you
don't like, please
go somewhere else to read.