Pen in hand poised
Anticipating as though it might spill some wisdom onto these pages
It hovers there for ages
And only bumbling babbling fills each line
Fine line between the two I dare say
I’m so tired at the end of this day
Maybe I will
just keep scribbling sleepy silliness
Really I’d like to be less demanding
To need less from every word.
It’s not as though these mindless notes will be heard by masses
Don’t need to fill the spaces
My glass is empty
I have no profound notions
I’m dry of emotions
I just wanted to write
And let the ink spill until this little page was full
Of nothing but rambling rhymes
It’s passed a little time
And I’ve made a silly something that’s mine
No pattern
That’s fine
Not defined
Just mine