Unread, Unloved

His quill is bent
His ink is dry
His will is spent
He wants to cry
He did his best
but failed the test
and come undone

He sits downcast
crushed from above
Seeing his last
unread, unloved
Try as he might
he cannot fight
he feels surreal

Maybe it’s time
to move along
Give up the rhyme
give up the song
Do something new
to get him through
life’s bumps and slumps

But then, a thought
the little light
his mind has sought
starts to get bright
His spirits rise
up to the skies
and words are stirred

© Stephen W. Buchanan 2016

Originally published advertising free at “If You Haven’t Got A Sonnet

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