A reading from the Book of Poetry, Chapter 1, Verse 1.
Waiting patiently to be written down.
Luckily there was also a poet with a pen,
Who imagined he could easily capture the word,
Then tame it over seven days
On to a piece of paper.
On the first day the poet happily picked up his pen and eagerly began to write.
On the second day the poet reluctantly crossed out what he’d written.
On the third day the poet studied the paper then angrily screwed it up.
On the fourth day the poet unscrewed the paper and doggedly wrote some more.
On the fifth day the poet read what he’d written and swore to quit poetry.
On the sixth day the poet forced himself to rewrite everything he’d already put down.
On the seventh day the poet picked up the tattered piece of paper
Then he screwed his A4 world into a near perfect ball.
Taking aim he pitched his creation with practiced accuracy
Into his overflowing bin.
Then he put down his pen, went to the pub and rested.
This was good.
Here endeth the lesson.