Sitting - just sitting, straining hard to rhyme
a poem that shouldn't be, shouldn't start.
i'm wasting energy and wasting time,
left with deep sighing, dry eyes, pounding heart.
Tired yet restless, sleepy yet awake;
2 AM is no time for writing. Still,
i sit and i write, just for writing's sake,
this poem. With it, i'll do as i will,
but i'm no more the master of its fate
than it is of mine. The pencil just moves
on the paper; i merely sit and wait
for the end. i write, the poem approves.
Still, it must end and the poem must shine
when i've finished writing the final line.