Like everything that has a beginning
There was nothing but a bare ring
Slowly but surely they started to cling
On the move they start to sing
Too loud, man, now that’s irritating
One for the faded letterbox
Two for the bicycle down the block
One for the home by the docks
Two again, mysterious; just to mock
Growing older there’s more and more;
Responsibilities, aren’t they a sore
Yet on and on we look for the one of lore
The one to things they tell us we ignore
Frankly too many, much too heavy
For storing, much less to ferry
Jingle jingle; back to reality
Uh-oh, damn! Locked myself out again.
Unfortunately, there is no key to unlocking a writer’s block.
Image taken from here