With teeth clenched. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

Night time sees him fixed in his chair

Trying hard to win the war against stubborn words

Sometimes it is easier to pen sheep.

He stirred, twisting, turning

Allowing words leap onto a blank page

Show your fangs he moaned

His ears open to latch onto a moment

He paused and stared, scared

He could feel a veil of sleep overpower him

“When I get older losing my hair will you still need me

Will you still feed me when I’m 64”

Humming away to the Beatles track in sheer amusement

If he couldn’t write this night at least he had his music.

©Chris Black. May 8th 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

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