Doodle Write

Last night, last orders until last rights
No more late nights,
My mind soars, searching like hunting kites,
only to be left hanging
thoughts are stalactites,
Im not the static type,
When I manic write,
Don't need any power
Its so late I'm by candle light scribbles downloaded direct from my minds sight?! Start again, need to get it right.

My mind is like stalactites...
Until it drip feeds, draws in breath, as i switch speeds, creation breathes, turning and flipping new leaves, the cold Leaves my body, muscles are tightening...
to ponder cryptically writing
letting the light in
from the wondrous sights in my imagination
As its fighting, striking like lightning
Addicted to typing,
wiping the wide grin, as fast as a sharks fin
I'm no Dorothy or lion, but the tin man with a heart in.