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i lost a poem today, like dropping a penny-- not gold, not silver just a dull worn-out brown stepped on, stepped over so utterly common no one would notice it lying around. i lost a poem today from these threadbare pockets, there's so few now i have left to spend, so few anymore so few to spare a loss for words a dried up pen. |
There was a time when all I had to do was look at a blank page or screen and all the days/nights inspirations would flow freely and fill that creative call from deep within. Not anymore...dried up This piece is perfect...all the way around! I relate. I miss my voice and Oh, how these walls sung here at elite when I was able to sing!!! Love this | Posted on 2014-05-11 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ] | maybe the ink dries for a reason. the well serves its purpose. we are no longer then the paper. we are just as we should be, i believe. | | Posted on 2014-05-11 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] | you know what? | its been 10years since i started haunting this site because a guy i loved ended his life. i turned to words and there were plenty of them. now i couldnt find two to rub together if you paid me to... but every now and then theres the promise of words and if i sit on them like a mama bird nests on her eggs eventually something hatches. but when it doesnt i find myself at odds with myself... i mourn what could have been my greatest poem yet. its been an odd few days to say the least and i understand this piece... it says what i cannot. x | Posted on 2014-05-02 00:00:00 | by allapo1ogies | [ Reply to This ] | |