I'm busy.
But the words are begging to be free.
I'm tired,
But the emotions won't leave me.

I know
I must give vent somehow.
I sit.
The writing begins, now.

I dream.
The ideas viciously compete.
I write.
Abstracts struggle to be concrete.

I'm done.
Now I can rest my head.
I'm wrong.
Another idea comes out ahead.