Poetry

Sometimes It Comes (#658)

Sometimes the pen seems just to float and glide,
Other times the words just disappear and hide,
It doesn’t stop me from giving it a try,
But sometimes the inkwell is just dry,
When the emotions inside stir and swell,
I go straight for my soul’s inkwell,
I hope the pen pours my soul onto the page,
But if it truly will, is always hard to gauge,
Writing forces me to deal with my emotions,
It’s almost therapeutic to go through the motions,
How I feel determines the medium I use,
Pen and paper seem to be the favorite for my muse,
Computer keyboards are great for banging things out,
A voice recorder when I’m out and about,
I hate the days where the words won’t come,
It makes me feel so untalented and dumb,
On these days, I must dig deep to reach my creative source,
From there, the words must be pulled by force,
Some days I just don’t feel like writing,
Other days it’s just damn exciting.

Any Thoughts?

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