Jun 2019
By. Lauren
You where never one to strike my interest.
Walking around with your mallet yet missing every cue.
Must I keep tempo for you?
Each beat to lose myself in.
Yet another tick from interest.
Will you ever learn the rhythm?
Will you ever strike my interest?
It seems like all you know is walking around with your mallet missing every blatant cue.
Must I help you?
You where never one to strike my interest.
Walking around with your mallet yet missing every cue.
Must I keep tempo for you?
Each beat to lose myself in.
Yet another tick from interest.
Will you ever learn the rhythm?
Will you ever strike my interest?
It seems like all you know is walking around with your mallet missing every blatant cue.
Must I help you?
Recently I went on a vacation in which I felt very inspired writings 2 to 3 poems per day. Now that my venture has ended and I find myself home again once more I have no choice but to force poetry. This is not anything I enjoy to do. The thoughts come but can never be put together. Sadly this is where I am.
