A Lasting Unimpression

A Lasting Unimpression:

A lasting unimpression has left me here
alone, by the fireside of forgotten time.
Work to do, things I should, there isn't enough
time for everything I would.
Self-indulgence is for me to see and you to question, and
Time after time to leave a lasting impression.
But what of it?
I knew this was going to happen - not so
severely however it may be.
A pen on paper is distraction enough for me.
To feel a page enlivened with thought
is what I seek.
To fill these leaves with everything I think.
To call it me and say it's mine
To impress upon the rest the significance of
what they find.
They've found me, my thought, my eyes.
Grandiloquent though it may be, I find it
Hard for me to think of an easier way
To write what I can, and not what I say.