A poem a poem I’ll try to write,
It may take all morning all day all night,
Tumbling thoughts around in my head,
Should it be this line or that one instead?
What the subject should be I wont know,
I’ll just write the words and see how it flows,
Shell it be good or shell it be bad,
Trying to write it is sending me mad.
Will it be of my feelings or times that pass bye?
Of some other person the birds in the sky,
I wont know till I write down the words with my pen,
The beginning I’ll start but it could be the end.
When words they won’t flow like a frustrating curse,
Struggling to write a simple small verse,
It’s time to lay down the pen in the hand,
Give up for a while for my heads in the sand.
Then suddenly like a blast of warm air,
The poem comes back with fresh thoughts bared,
A new beginning middle and end,
Another one wrote now start again.