The Writer

Today I was inspired by myself. Ha, that sounds funny. Well here is the poem that I spit out while working on my short story. Enjoy.

The Writer

My fingers move across keys much like a pianists,
Click click to backspace, tap tap tap creating words.
Striking letters to make pages instead of turning them.
The cursor blinks tauntingly up at me, black against white.
It tells me that the story isn't over, there is always more to say.
I create characters, places, plots and trouble.
I entice the reader, you, to look at my words,
Absorb their meaning, and care about the characters.
They become your friends as you root for them to win,
Your enemies as you wish for their defeat.
Conflict arises and your heartstrings tug, your throat constricts,
Your eyes move quickly across the page, growing wide,
You hope the outcome is how you want it.
The last page is near, the cliff hanger is here,
I write as you read, and the story ends.
You feel a sense of wonder, and I feel accomplished.