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.
