Lost on a trip in my mind,
Swarmed and swayed in traffic of my thoughts.
Disembodied voice from the road behind,
Quickly earned my golden attention
“Ink and a blank paper are the lifeblood of writers.”
As these words progressed into my cerebrum
The sky turned dreary as the glum clouds enveloped the sun.
I smiled in thought, “What’s your name again, ma’am?”