by Harley


I stare at the blank page -

pen poised - primed to begin.

The blank page stares back -

mocking in its stark whiteness.

Words tumble - crashing into each other.

Thoughts cascade into chaos.

No one thought illuminating the way.

No inspiration to guide them.

I stare at the scribbles on the page.

Pen poised. Waiting. Hopeful.

The scribbles stare back.

Mocking in their lack of depth.

(jce) 11/8/00

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