A poem about trying to meet writing deadlines. |
Five Pages More By Chrisp Every night I try to write; stare blankly at the screen. My blood shot eyes inspire me to write another book. They say uh no stop it now; you haven’t even finished the first yet. They want it now, five pages more; they’re on a deadline you know. Write it, type it, and make it good, what else you got to do. I’m just too tried; I’ve worked so hard, now you ask for more. If I give a pint of blood, will that buy me another day? Five pages, I just don’t know where their comin from. My brain is all but fried. One month is all I need, and then I ‘ll have it done. No time for socializin, no time for havin fun. Pressure is good; it’s what I need, to keep me on my task. The pages seem to flow like butter now; I can surely pull this out of my, my, my, uh brain. Yes that’s right! I can’t keep up this pace, five pages every day. It’s going to put me in the crazy house. Hey.. At least they’ll let me play. Hey lookey there I done it. I got it all wrote down. Now I'm goin to make some money; and blow out of this hick town. Now my eyes are tried and sleepy, I just shut the bedroom door. Tomorrow is another day; and I’ll write five pages more. |