Lost For Words
I open my journal to write,
something elegant for a challenge.
Not finding many of the words I need,
I wonder if my page can be salvaged...
I run through my words,
and seem to be lost,
in what I'm trying to bring across.
We poets all experience a dry spell
where words just hide from our pens.
A challenge won't wait,
'cause they all have a date,
when closed and a winner is chosen.
So as I stumble with wounded words,
I have to confess,
too much, too soon, too bad...
Written by Janet Ford
Challenge 'Too Much, Too soon, Too Bad'
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