I may be a mess but that’s ok
I’m just a rough draft
My stanzas may be uneven
My rhyme scheme nonexistent
But I carry the seeds of a masterpiece
These scattered scribblings will someday mature into defined and refined lines
My tiny wriggling tadpoles of thought will grow legs and a voice
They will explore territory they never dreamed existed
This writer’s block will topple off the edge of my desk and fall to the floor with a clatter
My words will burst through the dam,
First in awkward little leaks
But then in strong, steady streams
That leap forward into unfamiliar territory
With a laugh and a gleeful scream
These nattering notes will resolve themselves into chords and phrases
A motif will leap out of the disordered madness
Stumbling steps will lead to confident strides
And the audience will be satisfied
But for now I remain unfinished
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 11:04 PM UTC
I may be a mess but that’s ok
I’m just a rough draft
My stanzas may be uneven
My rhyme scheme nonexistent
But I carry the seeds of a masterpiece
These scattered scribblings will someday mature into defined and refined lines
My tiny wriggling tadpoles of thought will grow legs and a voice
They will explore territory they never dreamed existed
This writer’s block will topple off the edge of my desk and fall to the floor with a clatter
My words will burst through the dam,
First in awkward little leaks
But then in strong, steady streams
That leap forward into unfamiliar territory
With a laugh and a gleeful scream
These nattering notes will resolve themselves into chords and phrases
A motif will leap out of the disordered madness
Stumbling steps will lead to confident strides
And the audience will be satisfied
But for now I remain unfinished