Sliver of Hope

A Writer's Solitude

A writer's greatest enemy is his solitude,
For his solitude tortures his mind,
Arising an urge
To put his thoughts out there.

Starve the writer all you want,
But the writer's thoughts will grow;
It will grow and grow,
So much bigger than yours.

While you get the luxury
To voice your thoughts
In small doses at a time,
The writer must overdose.

It's all bottled up,
Threatening to burst
Until the cork
Explodes out of the bottle.

That's when the writer grabs a pen,
Scribbling tirelessly on paper
Until every thought is released;
How cathartic once he's done!

He's written a book
Consisting of a series of poems;
A book he wishes
For the world to see!

It's the mindset of a writer;
With his talent on paper,
He pictures a crowd of people,
But that's not what happens.

He's back to his solitude;
The cycle continues,
For his greatest enemy is still there:
The very solitude that fuels his thoughts.

Again, he writes and writes
Until every thought is released,
And one day,
Several books surround him.

Has people taken notice of his work?
He has a fan base,
People love his work,
But do they love him?

They don't care about the writer;
What they care about are his books,
Leaving the writer to his solitude
With his thoughts as his only company.

Did I say a writer's solitude
Is his greatest enemy?
Actually,
It's his greatest friend.