You used to think that words could plug the hole
Located at the very heart of you;
The more you wrote, the more you’d reach your goal
Of ousting that which filled you through and through.
In truth, there wasn’t any shortage there;
You’d always been as full as you could be.
Yet that you thought so led you to despair
And hindered you from ever feeling free.
So, now you realise that you’re complete,
There isn’t any need for you to write.
And yet you’re filling yet another sheet
Of paper with your sentiments, tonight.
In that, you’re like some never-ending spring,
Replete with all the joy that life can bring.
Photo by Yannick Pulver on Unsplash
Writing
