That Perfect Verse
A poem on writing
1 min readJun 27, 2021
You wrack your mind
try to overthink it,
nothing comes to you,
so you forget it.
Now it’s off to the races;
pen to paper, fingers on keys.
It will flow for a while,
at least you think it.
You wrack your mind
try to overthink it,
nothing comes to you,
so you forget it.
Now it’s off to the races;
pen to paper, fingers on keys.
It will flow for a while,
at least you think it.
Husband, Father, Writer, Future Retired Paper Mill Employee, Eco-Friendly — Peace-Loving — Pet Owner