I once had a tale I wanted to tell,
But the words had all gone away.
I did try to plead and then to cajole,
They said they had plans for the day.
Are they not the tools for the use of my whim?
How dare they make their own plans!
Now I am left holding a page with no words,
And what should I do with my hands?
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a word,
It seemed to have been left behind.
Another came forward and then yet another,
It seems that they too were declined.
Persnickety and oxygen are really great words,
But how would that work in a rhyme?
Cacophony is here but a little too loud,
And I’m really not sure there is time.
Perhaps I will rest, away from this world,
And maybe use images instead.
I hope they come back to a place in my mind,
Or maybe I’ll just see what’s ahead.