Pen to Paper

This writing thing has a hold on me
Every time I can I try to see
If something else I can write
Poem, story it matters not
To give it a try with all I have got
Another posting, look at that
He is good for that’s a fact
Let’s wait ’till tomorrow and we will see
What it is that he
has come up with today
To share with us and in his own way
satisfy the urge that he has to write
In the hope that he might
Strike a chord, a harmony or two
As with his writing he finds out who
He really is.

With notebooks and pens scattered all around
On this journey of writing they can be found
Within his reach as thoughts he does sound
Not to forget but to write them down
The thoughts come in and just as fast
Do leave his mind, they do not last
Unless pen to paper he does apply
To make those thoughts reality take
In his search for words that he might make
The perfect story or poem with rhyme
He writes so fast not wasting time
In an effort to get words down to see
What has he written this time for he
is an old man and time he hath not
To write all the things, they are a lot
In his hurry to beat the clock on the wall
The one that says, that’s it, that’s all
Try as you might, you still will fall
at the end, just like us all
You cannot beat time how hard you may try
for in the end we must all die.
And time has run out.

Hour Glass