Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Write Night

Building worlds is a bleak compulsion

Many a sleepless night

Novelists grovel in black revulsion

Poets chisel in white


No one finishes what they started

Nobody smiles and types

Write Night beckons the broken-hearted

Neck-deep in demons and gripes


Midnight oil is a fuel tormented

Scriveners walk alone

None of us win

We’re all demented

None of us ever got shown



Couldn't care less what rubbish you're dumping

Literary circus clown

Colours arrive and the beat starts thumping

Better start getting this down


Paper or iPad

Makes no difference

Slip on the idiot chain

Lock yourself into your deliverance

Write Night’s here again




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