The Bookstore

Sitting in the café, of my favorite bookstore, Writing poetry for my book I find myself staring at words, close my eyes And let the words just pass me by. People walking past me, wonder what I do I continue writing as if I knew. They seem to think I concentrate When all the while I hesitate I’m looking for some inspiration Interest and communication Inspired by some motivation To help me write with dedication But all I do is fall asleep. Picking up my pen at last Returning to the words that passed Is what I want to-do Sitting in the café, of my favorite bookstore, Writing poetry for my book I find the inspiration needed In the words of the poets on the shelves around me