A Casual Contemplation

So your sitting at the table 

In the kitchen or in your corner of the room

You have a ballpoint papermate pen

and an open faced notebook 

Not a person in sight

Not a word written on the sheet yet

Sure, you've got other things to do 

Places to be and etc

But for at least now, you have nowhere to go

And it's becoming one of those days you didn't realize was draining

like an almost empty Capri-sun pouch your not gonna last that long

You can't quite remember the details or all you've come to face

But you face the plain page of the notebook

You know theres no need' to be philosophical as you write out the first few words

No need for "Dearest so and so"

No need to be courteous to write out the time or date 

But after you write something or you end of writing everything

It fizzles out, 

And there's a sort of peace

At least you've wrote it out

You've at the very least have come to turns with something