Second Guessing
I thought you could be forgotten
in this mad-paced world
who has time for ink and paper
who has time for words
scratched slowly across
time and white space
but the longer the ink stood still
The more my fingers ached
for that quivbering quill
trembling with anticipation
heavy with condensed concentration
a million thoughts
liquified into twenty two lines
of soul
existence captured
in something sleek and beautiful
so my resistance lies defeated
to the poetry
my soul so desperately needed
as the ink escapes into the page
I feel my heart
and the earth engage
Respond
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