stiff to hold a pen or punch a letter
"why?" one may ask herself
Did it take the tainted air of the midnight's dew, or the nauseated view of images
smothering every passing hour which
lulled to days then weeks; pending months
until the spirit of inspiration re birth?!
why?
favourable turns cultivated unfavourable events
to abandon that which gave life
which ,inturn, buried the seed of misery
and its fruit, harvested
I sat twiddling my thumbs
gazing at the moons" for hope
but time had taught me a lesson
no matter which direction or distance of escape"
Destiny will always bite you in the a... the rear
to unfold again,
see again,
hear again,
write again...
I have all hope that i found my "red ink" pen
and not the comouflage of a feather immersed in coloured oil
i sit to bear the sentiments of past and allow the seasons and pages
to re develop, re create and re focus
only this time
I'll let it be...
No comments:
Post a Comment