The sun was somber,
It was looking at the clouds
beginning to weave an image
of a cobweb that’d soon
cover it, along with its glow.
Looking at this,
you were writing on the page.
Words had totally covered
your feelings, much like the mesh above.
In the meantime,
the poorly drawn cobweb was done,
it did cloud the sun
soon, a gloom took over the day
your words, your structures
are failing you as you write…
pages wasted in lifeless letters.
You are unable to draw the exact picture
with the acceptable rules of the craft
still your image of verse is so deep and strong
that you cannot go beyond
the prescribed guidelines
you are also scared of being outcast
even when the gossamer has cleared
the text on the page, washed away.
The sun is on its track
smiling, glowing and gleaming
at you, so you could peacefully
personify your response.