Prompt from Poetic Asides: write an "on the other hand" poem
I need to write, to
flex my poetic muscle, to
stretch my fingers and mind…
but the inkwell has run dry, the
muscles are sprained and tired,
the fingers are uncooperative.
I need to be disciplined, to
persist in writing, for if I write
nothing at all, then I will never
write anything great at all…
but if I force the words out of
wordless conception, overwork
the muscles, push duty over delight,
it could do more harm than good.
So I may just not write at all…
or maybe, I just did.