What will it be today, Scribbler?
Perhaps a sonnet or psalm
Something radiating beauty and calm
***
Do you think you stand a chance against the rest?
You just might be able to pass the test
I can hear your gears turning as you toil
***
Can you give us a line or two?
Show us what to expect from someone like you
I’ve given you the floor, I have given the queue
***
I’d rather hold off, if it’s all the same to you
It’s a work in progress
Why must you seek to oppress?
***
Scribbler, we wait with bated breath
Produce it now or face your death
Surely, motivation enough — No?
***
To rush creativity is a grievous sin
You cannot will life into my pen
Your threats are lost on me, I fear them not
There is a secret in every scribbler’s soul
Their burden of purpose weighs heavy, it takes a toll
Nevertheless, write they must
Scribblers write for all of us!
You Lil Dickens 
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