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Thu 16 Mar, 2006 10:53 am
The frustration continues to seep into my mind.
Frustration alone,
no words,
no thoughts.
My muse is on vacation and I am left feeling helpless.
Ideas flitter,
brush the surface of my mind,
but fall apart before the ink drops.
My words yearn to form sentences and paragraphs.
I yearn to form stanzas and lines.
My heart has always been with poetry,
yet now, my mind prefers prose.
Erato, Euterpe and Calliope
Grant me access to my words,
my lines and my stanzas.
Allow me to scratch the surface
and let my talent bleed.
Let it flow from my fingertips
and stain the paper as elegantly as it did before.
My thanks will be forever true.
I liked the first verse
I would have used 'flows' rather than 'drops'
but that's just me.
Yeah, the first verse has something. After that - it sounds like school.
Stumble It!
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