I’m retired and I’m a writer; I write every single day
I sit so long at my computer that my back says, “Hey!
We write for understanding and to clarify
Using words unusual, to somehow verify
I’m all bent over, get up! Look what you have done to me;
I look like a turkey buzzard, but I stay, contentedly.
We’ll try for meters perky or morose
To complement the vocab that we chose
I’ve been writing lyrics and I’d really love to see
All those words put to music and an agent would agree
We pour our hearts out to enraptured crowds
Reciting our sad poetry aloud.
that they would sell like hotcakes, number one on all the charts
and I would have a super case of happy fall-aparts.
We struggle endlessly with pace and tone
And wonder why we feel so all alone.
I write poetry, short stories, dialogue, which is a blast
And also good ol’ country music, and so when I am asked
We curse The Block that stalls creative flow
Trying to outwit it best we know.
Which do you like writing most, a story or a song?
Whichever plops down in my mind, I can write all day long.
We ruminate yet fail to comprehend
Why there’s nothing flowing from our pen
I’ve written my opinion on our country’s state of mind
But I have stopped (for now) because I simply can’t unwind.
Then finally, we write and write some more,
Following our muse, just like before.
When I’ve departed this old world, may my fam realize
Their mom/grandmom was actually a genius in disguise! Ha!
Our greatest joy becomes, when day is done
To write “The End” and say, “Oh! That was fun!”