Something jumps.
Then it kicks.
Biting, scratching
Hoping it sticks
It rips and shreds
In an effort to escape
It’s angry, impatient
And desperate to take shape
There’s something funny
There in the dark
There’s something fuse-less
Hungry for just one spark
It strains, runs, falls
Gets up again to heed a call
It stings, swings, clings
For even something small
It’s trapped. – It thinks
It’s caged. Deranged?
It’s happenstance, coincidence
Longing to be arranged
It’s hitting a wall
That isn’t there
It’s tangled up
In invisible snares
It’s snarling, malcontent
Yet eager to please
It’s boisterously humble
And an easy tease
It beats, slams, pounds
In a rage to get out
Then gingerly confounds
When it shyly pouts
Honestly! It’s childish!
How immature and aggravating!
To put me through
This headaching
Come here! Get out!
I’ve got you now!
Just spill from this pen;
Show them all how.
Listen to me!
Enough is enough!
I mean really,
You’re not that tough.
[Sounds of ink
And a struggle I think
The beast roars
Eager for more
It sounds like it’s coming
In a violent intangible mess
Tearing up the page
There won’t be anything left]
“I’ve won!” I say
All bloodied and bruised
“I now understand
What previously confused”
Rough, unpolished, unrefined
Tamed, restrained, and confined
Gracious in defeat, seemingly ready for design
But I’m still suspicious, about this idea of mine…