(I love poetry. The way it catches you off guard and have you searching for a pen and paper is… Wait a second.)
When it hits,
You feel the rush a thousand winds against your brain.
It refuses to stop until you pull out your pen and your page.
As it is writing,
It feels triumphant knowing it will be great.
You listen to it hover as you grace it to your page.
Upon the completion,
You read the thing aloud to make sure the creature is sated.
It finds you most inadequate and complains until you fix it.
Soon the work is over,
It laughs for its amusement of your pain and misery.
You will hate it forever because the waste of time and space.
Now it writes this,
You surprise it without knowing how well it became.
It finds the wait worth the wait and won’t be so pushy next time.