The Purveyor of Profundities ii

They say you change every seven years
If that’s the case, I guess I skipped a few cycles then
Because me and this pen been friends about double that and some change
Or maybe it’s the one side of my brain saying the born great never change
When lines pour outta me again and again, or as and when
But sometimes I wonder if heaven needs rain… o, how I hate to explain
Other times whether the craft is even good enough for them to discern
Ephemeral confidence only leading me to make another attempt
Even begging the gods to gimme just one more sentence
Then thanking the forces for making me feel great again
Even if only in an instance

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