I dont write on the page, the page writes on the quill. Its about the process not the journey.

The formation of words,

The foundation of stanzas,

The dribble of half-legible jarble

Is what makes it worth the wait.

To hell with the readers. I couldnt give less of a damn what you think. Huck-tpu! (spit sound effect) youre opinion rings no note in my formidable head.

For i an confident. The only things that keeps need me going on is my structure writing ability. And i cherish.

Every word is wasted, and yet every word is un-wasted by my genuis.

The last thing i must say to you:

“Get bent, kid.”

Ill remember those words forever, uttered by my english professor Mrs. Backfielder. Shes what kept me sane for all these years.

Sane? Its like i knew that word

Like

The

Back

Of

My

Hand.

My hand lingers in the candlelight as i write my last daily prompt. I can see the future by the way. It ends well for me.

—-

Thanks again to Quill To Page for sponsoring today’s poem of the day. If you have any questions, please put them in a comment at ‘I Reject this Poem Starter’ (btw it has 406 reads which means i am probably more popular than you 🙂)