Every time I attempt to turn the page
the wind picks up and defies my wishes
so I'm stuck with incessant words of rage,
the overturned corner sways and swishes.
So I take a tighter grip of my pad
and I wrench the page away to the next
with its clarity not feeling as bad
I fill it with my sentiments less vexed.
But when I lift my pen to start anew
the pages all flicker back to the start
when I would let my sorrow in words brew
and the heavy wind matched my heavy heart.
And yet I'm sure that the wind will die down
and give my writing less reasons to frown.
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