A poet who lost his way

A poet who lost his way

In a small town where shadows play,

Lived a poet who struggled to find his way.

Once, he spun words like a masterful tale,

But now his thoughts seemed to frequently fail.

He wandered through streets, seeking a sign,

But found only silence where ideas should shine.

Friends offered comfort, a nudge here and there,

“Just write what you feel, let your heart lay bare.”

But every attempt felt heavy and wrong,

As if the muse had forgotten her song.

He strolled through the park, observing the scene,

Searching for inspiration in the spaces between.

Then one quiet afternoon, under bright skies,

He paused as he noticed the laughter, the cries.

A child chased a butterfly, the sun shining bright,

In those simple moments, he found his delight.

No longer confined by a rigid own style,

He jotted down feelings, capturing a smile.

Not bound by perfection, he let the words flow,

And the beauty of life began to glow.

With newfound freedom, his heart found a beat,

In the essence of living, he felt whole and complete.

His poems became treasures, reflecting the day,

Embracing the ordinary in a wondrous way.