I pick a piece of paper up

I pick a piece of paper up,
(not literally nowadays you fool).
I put my pen upon its face
(that’s a metaphor for another writing tool)
and with imagined elegance and grace
scribble furiously with aplomb!
That’s if one can scribble with a keyboard,
be angry whilst being happy,
and pull a poem from where there was none.

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Author: George McDermid

I scratch out poems, and the odd little tale. Mostly for my own amusement.

5 thoughts on “I pick a piece of paper up”

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