I have
no rhyme, no meter
On the threshold of greatness
I falter.
I must
think up, write down
Imbibe the visions that come
with renown.
I pray
for wisdom, a word
Instead what comes out
is turd.
I wake
up, realise
the moment has passed me by
I sigh
time for me
to awake.
1 comment:
Someday, you'll have flow
so much so, that you'll have to fight to go slow
and the words will no longer be hollow
you'll have found something to say
and you'll do it in your own way
but
getting others to stay
is a whole other game to play
don't worry, it's still day
before endless night has its say
together, we'll find a new way :.)
- Always_on_trial from Insta <.3
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