Is a writer just

A spinner of lies?

An artist of deception?

A poet who died?

Is all that they are

A weaver of dreams?

A blanket of truth,

Torn at the seams?

For today it's as if

The writer is lost,

And the pen and the paper

Will win at all costs.

This writer has forgotten

(Their biggest mistake)

It's not about the words-

But the beauty they make.