Never did she realized that pen and paper could actually ease her anxiety.
Anyhow she managed to pour out her frustrations through her shabby scrawling.
She neither cared of people's cynical remarks nor did she resigned.
Indeed, she knew that her writing was awful but wasn't intimidated
For she knew she'd upgrade only if a chance was given to her
Time elapsed and barely she noticed that her grief turned her to writing addict.
And finally with a deep sigh
How remarkable it would be
If every person's tensity could sparkle through pen and paper.