The Writer's Group

Artists and their funny ways
All we do is spend our days
In pajama pants thinking up ideas
And plans that we never carry out
But they're still nice to think about

And we take stuffy jobs 
just to cover the cost 
Of meandering about, lost
But at least we can write about it

A new entry in our journal or
our turn to read in the poetry circle
At the café down the street
We're grumpy old hats, 
barely making eye contact 
And we're thankful for that.