Neoterra I

Alexandre sat down at his desk,
With a blank page before him,
He closed his eyes and took a breath,
And let his imagination begin.

He thought of a world not unlike our own,
A place of beauty and wonder,
Where people lived and loved,
And dreams were not torn asunder.

He picked up his pen,
And began to write,
His words flowing smoothly,
As he put his thoughts to light.

And soon, a poem was born,
A masterpiece of words and rhyme,
A reflection of the world he saw,
In his own unique mind.

Alexandre was pleased,
With what he had created,
A work of art,
That he was proud to have initiated.

And so he continued to write,
Poem after poem,
Sharing his vision,
With the world that was his home.