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Writing a Poem
April 21, 2010
Thinking, thinking, and... nothing.
How does this make you feel?
Blank, empty.
My mind is a white room, no furniture, nothing.
Sitting, waiting for a pop, an idea, a lightbulb to turn on; even a flicker.
Somehow the words are trapped.
A cold jail cell encloses them, prisoners in my brain.
Then, pop, a surprise. Now my mind is full of color.
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