Block

When I sat to write my feelings,

They would not come to hand.

I wrote and erased,

But words cannot be so grand.

My verse was weak,

And pathetically dry.

I tore it up,

And gave it another try.

The next was close,

Though still not right.

I pulled my hair,

And continued to write.

Late that night night,

To my very fright.

I had lost,

The penmans might.

I surrendered to sleep,

And dreamt ever so clear.

I saw a life,

To distant to touch but e'er so near.

I stood by and could feel the pain,

I knew she liked it,

So I prayed for rain,

The beast turned and ran away.

The next I knew,

I saw sky so blue.

Thrown on my back,

In an affectionate attack.

I slept restlessly,

The rest of the night.

I awoke and began to write,

The pem came ever so sweet.

It fell to paper,

Unbelievably neat.

It spoke of y only,

From head to toe.

Beautiful as it may be,

It does her injustice.

So it will stay,

Amongst the unjust,

Collecting dust.

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