deepundergroundpoetry.com
How?
How do they write?
How do they put pen to paper,
Fingers to keys,
And write in a constant river.
Not a faltering trickle of words
Typed out with too much thought,
Too many expectations,
And so much pressure that they should turn into diamonds.
Time ticks away.
An hour per word,
This poem has taken days
Yet before I could pick them from an bountiful tree.
But the tree is barren,
And where is my inspirational water
To bring it back to life?
How do they put pen to paper,
Fingers to keys,
And write in a constant river.
Not a faltering trickle of words
Typed out with too much thought,
Too many expectations,
And so much pressure that they should turn into diamonds.
Time ticks away.
An hour per word,
This poem has taken days
Yet before I could pick them from an bountiful tree.
But the tree is barren,
And where is my inspirational water
To bring it back to life?
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