At times I fail to lure those lazy words out of my mind,

Though I prod them in ways kind and unkind,

They oft conceal and take a circuitous route,

Lose their essence and dangle disjointed enroute,

Untamed, they waltz and taunt my lyrical might,

A disgruntled poet–I wish my readers knew my plight.

To a random thought at last I tether my quill,

And watch a downpour of words under their freewill,

Verses take shape, I feel humbled,

Ah! My rapport with words seems leveled,

Flaunting my creation I let out a sigh,

However, terrified that in future my ink might run dry.

***