the work day is done
my eyes are totally burning
fourteen hours of screens
of reading and more typing
writing, writing, writing
until my fingers can’t do anymore
putting together magic in pens
until my hand is too sore
i feel like all i do is write
there’s nothing wrong with that
after all, it’s something i love
and it gives me pats on the back
just when i think i’m all done
it is the end of the day
so i go to pick up my journal
and find i still have plenty to say