I Write….

 

I write and write and write again

 

Only to start all over again

 

The words they flow

 

Each one perfectly so

 

It’s blood, sweat and tears

 

Over way too deeply rooted fears

 

Not smart enough

 

Not witty enough

 

Not educated

 

Poorly punctuated

 

 

The challenge is such

 

It’s almost my life’s crutch

 

I run and I hide

 

From life’s stress inside

 

Each jot and each twittle

 

The stories shape I whittle

 

With each pen stroke

 

A new thought I provoke

 

With facts stranger than fiction

 

I write each story with stunning conviction

 

 

Then as I print, the truth it unfolds

 

The mush of their minds, I seek to mold

 

The story I’ve told

 

Of the righteous and the bold

 

Should lead the world to action

 

If only the book would gain traction

 

For try I might

 

At the end of each night

 

No matter how elegant it’s been said

 

Not a single word seems to have been read.

 

I write and write and write again

 

Only to start all over again.

 

 

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