With pen in hand and heart aflame,
A young wordsmith weaves their name,
In pages filled with hopes and dreams,
A teenage writer's voice beams.

Their words dance on the empty page,
A symphony of youthful age,
With every line, a piece of soul,
Is shared with the world's goal.

Ink flows like a river's stream,
As imagination knows no scheme,
Their stories born of life's own fire,
A reflection of heart's deepest desire.

With each new tale, a piece of self,
Is revealed, like a blossoming wealth,
Their writing journey, just begun,
A path of discovery, forever won.

So let their words be wild and free,
A testament to youth's glee,
For in the ink, a dream takes flight,
A teenage writer shines with all their light.

KRITI