Deep in the abysses of my brain
Stands, with a shovel, a tiny man.
When someone says those magic words:
“Dig a little deeper.” He gets to work.
Shoveling nonsense out of my mind
In another futile attempt to find
That something special, something unique
Those raw emotions that I just can’t reach
He looking for treasure, his never ending chore
No X to mark the spot, It’s not easy for sure.
He digs and digs for that perfect line
That’ll tie together what I write.
He’s hard at work with his shovel
I always give him so much trouble.
Looking for words with greater meaning
In a space that seems to be teeming
With silly thoughts and childish drivel
Stands The Little Digger Man With his shovel
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC
Deep in the abysses of my brain
Stands, with a shovel, a tiny man.
When someone says those magic words:
“Dig a little deeper.” He gets to work.
Shoveling nonsense out of my mind
In another futile attempt to find
That something special, something unique
Those raw emotions that I just can’t reach
He looking for treasure, his never ending chore
No X to mark the spot, It’s not easy for sure.
He digs and digs for that perfect line
That’ll tie together what I write.
He’s hard at work with his shovel
I always give him so much trouble.
Looking for words with greater meaning
In a space that seems to be teeming
With silly thoughts and childish drivel
Stands The Little Digger Man With his shovel