Poem: Old writer who has lost his words.
|The magic has gone.
the words are no longer...
cohesive or meaningful.
The hand doesn't write in the same way
and the old scribbler weeps!
He weeps for the times he felt joy.
When his words came free
Adventure filled every stanza.
Still he weeps,
for he can no longer find the words.
Words that might propel
to greatness anew.
Yet remain ellusive.
Yes the magic is gone.
But the scribbler is still there...
longing for one more chance at glory.
One more chance to fulfill himself.
Then the spark comes.
He enjoys life again!
With his work done,
he has regained his love.
He is finished writing his story.