The Way of a Writer

The lamp is switched on
my desk is fully lit
I could see my wine glass empty…..

This is my office
I write without thinking
with a glass filled with wine……

This is a boring life
nothing else to do but write
Most crap I know that too…..

The lamp is switched off
I will be in bed soon
Yet words still conjure into the mind…..

This is a world of a somewhat poet
hoping for success or at least recognition
maybe or maybe not!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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