The Writer

Those with many names.

He creates a book out of memories.

Of the various days gone by.

I’m not sure if he even remembers me anymore.

But I still have a unique autograph, from our nostalgic days.

His time is consumed constantly.

He’s a busy man with many ambitions.

I want to see what he’ll do when he succeeds.

I wonder if he’ll remember me — 50/50.

But that’s okay, because the Writer…

Well, he’s a writer; he does just that.

He wrote to me that I should write,

So I did. Which is why I write today.

The guy behind the desk, head down, sometimes unexpected.

The Writer.