They said to write, write, write and write
Til able to write no more
Write the first thing that comes to mind
And so bloody what if it rhymes
That’s just the way it is right now
Plow on regardless, pen pushed against your beating chest
Every word needs to mean something to someone
Simple words, harsher words, a word nonetheless that digs deep on inside a person’s soul, leaves them inspiringly impressed
In the end you sought them out right from the beginning
Sending them a love letter of sorts
They cannot but feel feted to the very last
Ignite fonder than fond memories of far prettier times, times gone past
Perhaps by the wayside, sliding on out like a slippery snake
Quaking once more for something akin to that very same feeling
Reeling in anticipation
Words, notes, then go as far as keys on the piano that cannot but envelope oh so tenderly, please the observer
Make, create, your very own cover