Where are the fingers that could just tap out the thoughts on plastic and transform them into virtual memory capsules? The same fingers that then hide the keys in abstraction?
I now have the lexicon,
I now have the suave.
Can conjure metaphors on demand,
Words have become my wand.
Clarity of thought, lucid prose,
Perfectly placed semicolon;
All weapons primed for action
At the mere hint of any mission.
When I was yet a novice,
With nothing but emotions for battle,
The words were always lacking
And the style, just unbecoming.
The time has passed, and I have trained.
My skill is now ready
To pen emotions for eternity
But now, when I dwell within,
All I find is nothin'.
I now have the lexicon,
I now have the suave.
Can conjure metaphors on demand,
Words have become my wand.
Clarity of thought, lucid prose,
Perfectly placed semicolon;
All weapons primed for action
At the mere hint of any mission.
When I was yet a novice,
With nothing but emotions for battle,
The words were always lacking
And the style, just unbecoming.
The time has passed, and I have trained.
My skill is now ready
To pen emotions for eternity
But now, when I dwell within,
All I find is nothin'.