What to Write
I just thought of writing something
until I thought of writing about writing.
'Tis a long, deep night
but a freaking young night, I say.
Write a poem at the end of the day.
Listen to the peaceful sound
Never mind the howling of the hound
To find a captivating subject
Feel the cold breeze from the outside
Express the warm emotions held inside
At my back, the enormous wooden clock
Echoes a tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock
No need to rush, no need to flash
The work of the genius will be finished
Just wait until it's fully furnished
And so, I was finally done
The worries I first had, now gone
I'll write again, soon.
Will next time be like a play?
Imagine me surpassing Hemingway