The Lone Writer
Fear not the written word even of your own volition…
Writing in a place of open and innocent sanctity
One compares such to a cathedral like sanctuary
For the mighty to move forward and succeed
We must complete at least one great deed
So the seed and the minds respond
See the water ripple on a windswept pond
Let the words flow back and forth
In waves of dictation forever heading north
Brave out our heroes lest we leave them behind
Taste on the budded tongues like the bittersweet of sour rind
Weeping beggar doth crying to the lowest of despair
Reach out screaming peak to the highs of freshened air
Words bundled together in meaningless nonsense
Re-arranged handsomely to form prose of tolerance
Deep from the heart depart they belch with sorrow
Every saying every phrase may none be borrowed
Plunder onward with the sounds of the mind
Scratching on paper with pen we bind
Bludgeoned senseless by harsh critique ground
Persist I shout loudly till your release is found
Madness of writer cramp does not us hold back
Never are we called or named of those that are slack
Tongue-tied in fear with twisted tormented terror
Onward we screw sheet after sheet more paper in error
Never give in to an idealess blankness of mind
Another day it will be filled with many of kind
Of notions and motions that race up and down
Some gone so fast your face will turn to frown
Lost of the times of great lines are many to cry
Painful enough to drown in the thoughts to die
Heck up with the heckles of harrowing thought
Can you the lone writer be so easily bought?
Dare I say never we know each other too well?
Many of us have been trampled and heavily felled
Stand up be a lighthouse with the quill of all time
Scribe words of wisdom and inspiration across every line…
Stu [stumacsu] Stuart Charles Mackenzie
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