The Last Line by xxx from smk Seafield

The Last Line

I sat quietly,
On my favorite chair,
Humming softly,
Twirling my hair.

I took up my pen,
And thought what to write,
Maybe about a friend,
Maybe about a kite.

I thought and thought,
while painting my nails in pink,
Yes, i still didn't know,
How to begin my show.

I started at my paper,
Glaucing away from time to time,
Murmuring in prayer,
To find words that rhyme.

I wandered off in my imagination,
Though my frustration remained,
my efforts seemed to be in vain,
I was close to desperation.

But yet, little did I see,
words were already weaving,
They moved ever so quickly,
I didn't hear them whispering.

I looked down at the no longer blank paper,
And realized that my show was almost ending,
I smiled and took control once more,
And wrote the last line of my poem.