Becoming

By
The new sun rises on last night’s coffee cup,
And your long black hair just won’t stay up.
And your window’s not a metaphor today,
As you pencil down dreams you cannot say.

Fill up your paper napkins with stories of you,
Color your dazzling poet words gold, green and blue.
Blink away sleep; duel off writer’s block with a fight,
Let yourself outshine the city of blinding lights.





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