A Poem from when writing a poem is not what my brain wants to do.

It’s hard, sometimes,

to craft the rhymes,

that make the words sing;

and, often, if I do write,

what I write is poor,

and lame, and not the same,

as what I write when I’m in the zone.

But, still, I will put my words together,

untether the process of creation,

and, perhaps, by writing,

I might start inviting inspiration.

Or, I can always wait,

for the seminal state

to return.

I may earn nothing

from what I do,

but worth is in the eye

of the beholder:

that is something you learn,

as you grow older.

There is always worth in words.

2 responses to “A Poem from when writing a poem is not what my brain wants to do.

  1. the value of worth is beyond measure

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