There are times when words seem to flow effortlessly unto paper.
At other times it seems to be quite a struggle. The ink runs low or is in short supply.
My quill seems ill, or worn and damaged.
  The ink on the quill threatens to dry up altogether, then a simple truth occurs to me.
  I need to renew and replenish and restore my quill by taking a dip in the ink well.
  I need the ink well to fully function. I was running dry trying too ******* my own.
  My quill takes a dip in the ink well .May creativity flow from the ink well and fill the quill up to the appropriate capacity.
If an extra drop of ink should occur it should be available to share with another quill in need of refreshment.
If you find a friend who is need of encouragement don’t let their ink dry up.
Instead help them take a dip in the ink well. Where together inspiring words can have an endless supply.

When the last person living
Takes their last breath
Stares down the darkness
and meets their hour of death
Birds will not cease singing
The trees will still grow
The tide will still pull
and the wind will still blow
The sun will still come out
As will the moon
The leaves will still sprout
and the flowers still bloom
It is only our arrogance
Which makes us think we
are at the axis of all
That we touch and see
Life will go on without us
Year after year
We will just become the people
That once lived here

If thrown at
Someone
No care if
Returned
Like a coin
Flipped
With a hard
Thumb
Or melted into
Bliss
Dripping from
Eternity
And will jump to
Us
And our hard_gained
Grace
Will smoulder to
Ashes
And then though
We
Pull our teeth to
Potential
It couldn't be
Pushed
Back like a cow
Cawing
At the door or
Window

It is fettered by
Will
Not by our
Actions
And if sensible
Enough
We must get it
Submissively
Offering no
Contradiction