I wrote a poem, let me know what you think:
A blank page stares back at me
The words not there for me to see
The voices are loud in my mind
But refuse to be refined
A blank page stares back at me
The characters wanting to be free
They play around in my brain
But refuse to be restrained
A blank page stares back at me
Until finally a word will be
The voices want to be heard
Until the characters sing like a bird
Friday, July 2, 2010
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1 comment:
I hear you. A blank page can be a joy or a burden.
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