Highs and lows

by Michael   Apr 30, 2019


My ink runs slow, my mind subdued
So many words, are misconstrued,
my quill is not, in rhythmic mood
its just my own, poetic feud.

From morn to eve, from dusk to dawn
my wordless bank, is overdrawn,
pen-stubbed fingers, wane and worn
sheets of paper, crumpled and torn

I stamp my feet and scratch my head
the rhymes then haunt me, when in bed
when morning comes, my thoughts have bled
my roily mind is left for dead.

At times in life we run aground
and all the cogs have all unwound
but in the end, all shall be found
my pen will find a joyous sound.

    report violation
11


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago

    by Tanya Southey

    Congratulations on your win. Excellent work!

    • 4 years ago

      by Michael

      Thank you Tania:)

  • 4 years ago

    by Brenda

    Lovely Michael. Writers block taunts us, everything just flies away from us. I like your positive notes at the end. It will come around.

    • 4 years ago

      by Michael

      Thank you Miss Brenda:) x

  • 4 years ago

    by Bryce

    I love how this ends in triumph after all the peril.

    • 4 years ago

      by Michael

      Thank you Bryce and for reading

  • 4 years ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Stunning work. I am so glad its been nominated. You have a natural way of writing that just flows so seemingly effortless. I just love this piece with its superb rhyming and rhythm. I really do think in this case like so many your pen has found its joyous sound. Much love Milly x

    • 4 years ago

      by Michael

      Lovely comments Miss Milly, thank you:)x

  • 4 years ago

    by Dagmar Wilson

    Oh Michael I absolutely love this and thank you for sharing. Hugs to you

    • 4 years ago

      by Michael

      Thank you Miss Dagmar:)x

Read All Comments (14)

More Poems By Michael

People Who Liked This Also Liked