It is a friend, fickle her name is,
She comes and goes as She wills
Sometimes, She’s a light trickle
The next, a downpour heavy
I’d love to get a grasp on her
But She’s quite the lady,
The harder you cling
The faster she runs away screaming.
*Sigh* I really hate this dance (Also, this analogy sucksss)
But this, I must do
Else, you wouldn’t be reading this (if anyone does!)
Let me give you some advice (if you’ll let me)
Beware the trap of the artist!
We have not the freedom you desire or want.
The waves of inspiration toss us to and fro,
We break on the rocks, mostly.
Occasionally, we ride the waves…
Before they, of course, throw us back to the rocks .
Oh well, what am I saying?
When lightning strikes, what choice do you have but to do!