Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Poem: What Happens?

written 8/4/09
critique welcome.

What happens if my pen stumbles
over words that won't come?
Words that once flew winged to speckle and splatter
a blank page,
what happens if they can't form,
if they don't form,
like they aren't forming now.

It's because I don't have experience,
I know it is.
Don't tell me different.
Don't try to tell me different.
I know my lack of self, of hurt, of love,
is all my own fault.
I know my fear of fear is pathetic.
I know that, if I felt,

I could write again


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