Just Writing

Just writing My copy pen fell to the floor I bent down to pick it up Now I was dizzy the rook swayed. I came here decades ago, and many pens have fallen to the floor Although I use a word-processor. Words are my crutches I lean heavily on them to find a meaning And not knowing what that meaning is. Just a vague feeling I lost something on my way to the stars. I write at night now a steady hum tells me I have to make up For wasted time, but my time of waste was a fun one Full of women and sensuality