Friday Night For The Writer Poem by Patrick van der Loos

While the rest of the world breaks free from a week of drudgery,
He holes himself up with the very instruments which others seek to escape from.
A mean of writing, and paper.
Crooked neck and aching hands,
He seals himself away from the world and into his own mind
Seeking to record for posterity the adventures of his wandering mind.
Producing canned daydreams for the rest of the world in fits of creative madness.
Nervous energy, pent up through the week while doing the daily grind
Explode from the fingertips in a torrent onto the page on a weekend night in the dark of winter.
But he sees not the stars.
Only black print on white paper.