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Lego World
I remember the eight year old me,
Sitting with legos,
And building homes and stories,
That my lego people would be living.
I never realised I was a creator then too,
Of stories,
Of characters,
Of timelines,
Of homes,
Of imaginations,
Of hope.
So, today, years later,
As I'm trying to find what I really like,
I realise while I write,
That I maybe like creating worlds of stories,
Like this one is forming,
Word after word,
Building like a lego world of my own.
So everyday for me,
Is just another day in my lego world
Of building and breaking,
Parts of me,
That no longer fit,
In the new worlds of the stories that I'm creating.
