Writers Are A Funny Breed(其他) - Jane Siberry

On this winter's afternoon
This room hangs on a golden chain
Suspended
Frozen
Frozen in time since you went away
Walking through your rooms I though your things
It says April on your calendar
As long as you're fine
Your house is as tumble-down as mine
Crumpled papers everywhere like mine
This one says I'll write no more
That one says don't lock the door
Writers are a funny breed
I should know
You said someday when we're pure and high
We won't need to capture and describe
The things we see or don't see
We'll let things be
Let things be
That's when you'd leave
And that is why I had to come today
My mad scribbling crumpled crippled fey
Tossing words from ledges that erode
I am not a piece of chalk
I just want to do it right like you
And now I stand here in your house
Everything's so still
I wonder if I'll write again
Or let things be
Writers are a funny breed