Do you ever write things just to write?

Even though it doesn’t make sense

And you can’t tell your left from your right?

It’s like there’s warmth in the ice

And your brain is thawing

just to make things right

But there’s no one else there

to tell you what to do

So you look around for a more adultier version of you?

For instance,

I have good thoughts and great intentions

but my words won’t come out

no matter how hard I mention them

And it’s a word salad if ever I’ve seen one

Yet it’d be easier to write a book

if I could only be in one

A brilliant story with a brave knight and his queen

If only we were

such fantastical beings

But writing isn’t that easy

When your brain feels all breezy

And when there’s warmth in the ice

You shouldn’t second guess yourself twice

So, author please keep going

Even if your words aren’t “showing”