Is it a skill, a talent, a waste of time?
Is it a mysterious guiding hand, or just blind luck?
I simply sit and start to write
Often unsure of where the words will go
Often guiding them to a known goal
Either way, as leader or follower
I am slave to the words
A servant to their whims
But a happy one, content with my lot
Honoured to serve
My personal forces of creation.