My pen’s become long winded and I don’t know what to do
It will not write a little poem in just a verse or two
It begins to write a novel, no matter what I think
And then as if by magic, it somehow loses ink
I swear my pen just must be cursed, a spell cast by my muse
This isn’t fair to say the least, in fact it is abuse
To leave a poem unfinished, just hanging in the air
My pen dries up, my muse runs out ..... as though she doesn’t care
I’ve got to turn the tables and try to change my luck
I think I’m going to trade my pen for someone’s rubber duck
Then I’m going to ignore my muse and let her hang to dry
Maybe she will realize ..... I’m quite the poetic guy
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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LOL......you most definitely are my friend, you definitely are!!!!! Now there's a thought, turning the tables. Mines been AWOL for sometime now. Witty and wildly creative, I enjoyed this tremendously! Keep dipping the pen in the well!!
Michelle
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Hello Michelle! So nice to have my poem graced by you commenting on it. I have so many incomplete poems in a folder that either just went blank, or took a hard left when they should have gone right. I was actually writing one of those pieces that went astray as this thought popped in my head.... don't know how, but I got to run with this one....lol Thanks a bunch for your never ending support and kind comments. Take care and have a great day!
Don
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