Writing, writing, writing into
A corner in the room filled
With elephants and tigers and
A lioness or two
Scratching at the walls created
By time, circumstance, and
Procrastination unfettered as
The days run into nights
And the mess they've made has
No rhyme or reason or sense unless
You count the lessons learned along
The way to growing up
Learning to be good and right
As all is set aright and the writing
Comes more naturally and the
Scratchings make more sense.
👏👏👏
ReplyDelete