poetic interlude 2 god scribe what insanity , this writing thing , creating people , plots that zing , after a time you become inured , thinking it real with every word its so true , i give my word , reality created from man to bird , dripping life , no need to rehearse , it comes natural in every verse ending with your own uni-verse , youve started life but its often a curse , plots so real , your life you crop , only ending with a full stop its unlikely youll ever stop , a magician , you will never drop , your ability to make those characters grovel , with twists and turns in every novel and once youre a writer life is novel , even if poor , living in a hovel , scribbling away from brunch to tea , youve created your own personal entity my lifes goal for thirty years ive written each day , hoping for success without delay , honing my craft , getting it right , then realising its errors the following night ; my goal is two-fold in all i do , perfecting my craft and communicating to you , a message , a philosophy , a reason to be , my muses like invading entities ; i was once on the verge of making it big , two books sold , published , but lifes a pig , publishers changed , wanting celebrity alone , i festered a while they didnt atone ; my pile of rejections became quite high , but i kept sending manuscripts on the sly , cos to feel success slip through fingers so , gives you a thirst to bath in that glow ; each year i began with this thirst intact , a yearning , a need , to interact , but now its declining , this goal of mine , im a blogger !