Effort

I wrestle with the
Page. Its lines are
Chainmail to my
Pen’s dagger nib.

How hungry I am
To fill a page
With song. How
Sick I am to do so
That I cannot face
The bland disappointment
Of a sentence. I press
And twist to try and
Crush the words to
Submit under my will.

This is it -
The pen is broken
And the ink is spilt
The words are written.