Today’s poem is about a writer who has lost all his words. Sometimes this writer is me.
Alright, poem starts in 3… 2… 1!
There once was a writer of fame who'd spin tales of wonder, no two quite the same. But today as he sat with his pen his mind was as blank as the sheet in his hand. He's lost his words, he's lost his words! The most active wordsmith in all the land. He's lost his words, he's lost his words! With paper before him, a pen in his hand. He conquered great mountains of writing with ease, made characters dance like the leaves in the breeze. But now he just stares at the ceiling above can't write even "hello", "goodbye" or "love". Oh, he's lost his words, he's lost his words! The mightiest writer in all the land, He's lost his words, he's lost his words! With paper before him, pen in hand. He searches the couch and he looks 'neath the bed, he checks in the library where dictionaries are read. The words must be hiding or taking a rest, maybe flying like birds that have flown from their nest? Some say it's the fate of the best of us all, imagination takes just a temporary fall. But don't you worry, it returns with the dawn, just like the dew on a fresh summer lawn. So pour him some tea, let him rest for the night. Tomorrow his words will return nice and bright. The legend continues though currently paused Just waiting for words that were transiently lost. He's lost his words, he's lost his words! But soon they'll return to their master's command. He's lost his words, he's lost his words! But his greatest work is yet to be penned!
Thanks for reading edition 208 of Hello Universe. I had a day full of messing up with my words, so this drawing and poem felt like ways of processing that trouble.
How do you handle life when your words fail you? Do you have some tips for a writer who’s lost his words?
Share your ideas and thoughts in the comments below.
That’s all for this week, see you next Tuesday!
Do not loose faith about your ability. Sometimes you are not able to connect the dots. But it's a temporary phase