Where have you gone, Wordsmith?
We’ve been waiting not so patiently
To read what it is you’ve been getting up to
Are you taking a long holiday?
Or are you locked away some place
How can we tell for sure?
We want you to write something resembling your old stuff
Something that lets us know that you’re alright
A sentence, a paragraph, anything really
A poem if you like, a poem that makes us smile
Because we know that you were smiling when you wrote it for us
Where have you gone, Wordsmith?
Is it that we did something wrong?
Or have you done something wrong
You can still write, as long as you don’t think about it too much
Or is that the problem right there
That you can’t stop thinking about it too much
Your brain might need to be frazzled?
A million words to choose from
Even if all that they seem to be are words to you
Not a gun loaded with bullets full of colour and description
To shoot in our direction
Whenever you get a chance feel free
To shoot in my direction
Because if they turn out to be less than I expect
I know they’ll still be better than what other writers unleash on me
