Writers don’t write awesome

Words are meant to be a treat for the soul,

They’re those little things which leave you in tatters or lift you all the way to Olympus

Beautiful, magical or even the unspoken thoughts

Repeating lines for emphasis

You’d come across various, rhyming in pronunciation

But these days it’s more about the sadness

And more about not rhyming

It’s about leaving it to the reader’s imagination

And leaving it abrupt

All those words of power which play with your minds

Leaving you with sleepless nights and dreamy days

See what I did there?

But writer’s don’t write awesome nor do they add spunk.

And maybe if they did, they’d be called drunk

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