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Silence Cripples the Lead
My pencil is dull and my mood is in a lull
my hand has stalled and my thoughts had walled
I’ve written about all there is to say
Just can’t think much of anything today.
I feel like the hands of a worn out clock
going around and around like tick tock
the hands lock up and don’t speak out
leaving my words in a sudden drought.
the eraser is brittle from not being used
tends to feel left out and somewhat confused
all of my pencils are now collecting dust
laid out beside my laptop feeling less trust.
they’ve been employed and gained a reputation
now abandon and restless at their work station
if I only had some ideas to inspire my write
my leads would perk up and say “all write”’!!!!
but the fact is I have nothing much to say
which makes me wonder if they’ll die and decay
it would be hard to watch them chip and crack
am sure they’d love to give me a smack.
I sit on the hills hoping to get an aspiration
to create a poem that would gain some admiration
if my leads become dead that’ll be less I’ve said
therefore don’t look ahead for what you haven’t read.
I tried to giggle you by writing just that
but I see you weren’t amused with the chat
I don’t have any good quills with a fine head
just a few old no.2 pencils with lead instead.
Copyright ©
Douglas Pederson
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