A Poet's Prayer
It seems my well of ink runs dry
With pen in hand, I want to cry
This war on words I seem to rage
When once flowed liquid words to page
Advance, advance I call to fore
To rival canon’s mighty roar
Yet, with my hand in solemn vow
I cannot find the words somehow
I pray for rescue from this pain
This prison held by tyrant’s reign
I know my muse, a shining knight
Will come to end this dreadful plight
And then, oh then will feelings flow
With every Synonym I know
With every Rhyme and Sonnet’s grace
To end this lonesome paper chase
Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment