The Pensive Poet
I wandered lonely and lost in a crowd
My mind wrapped in thoughts so keen to expound
The images to which my heart had bowed
Ignoring the rough noises all around
Struggling was I to find just the right word
To paint the picture I had fixed in mind
It all seemed so far fetched and absurd
Why was my harsh muse being so unkind?
I strode on in my stroll, though steeped in pain
Nothing of poetic form ever came
My struggle looked like being all in vain
Was this to be my sad moment of shame?
Then that damn block dissolved to set me free
Who was not startled by my shout of glee?
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