The Unrelenting Writer
THE UNRELENTING WRITER
Words spiralled from within her
Each thought teemed from her core,
Each line brimmed almost overflowed
Ready to be tilted and poured.
Was it the nostalgic scent around her?
Or gleeful giggles from afar?
Or the lush green leaves that cascaded
Out the large windows left ajar,
That triggered this verbose tremor?
She knew not.
She picked up her pen and paper
And set out to jot down each letter
That drizzled like water droplets
From the clouded pith of her heart.
But the pen. Oh her pen!
A humble tool of plastic
Used to unfurl a writer's world
Could not keep up to her pace
As the ink was drying up in haste.
The bulbous body of the pen
Pressed against her delicate fingers,
Caused her much discomfort
Yet, the writer continued, relentless.
The writer’s attempts to manoeuvre
And weed out each long thought
Is thwarted by this wayward pen
Which scarcely blots only balks.
The pen weak but stiff,
Trivial but tight,
A device that cannot stand alone
Stalls her with all its might.
Hinders her way forward
Tampers her every try
Each stroke she takes
Become lighter
As the ink dwindles
faster
She works her way
hither and tither
Even though the stains
Flicker,
And just when
the last drop of ink
cease,
And when all seem
lost
forever,
She
completes
her
masterpiece....
11/23/2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment