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Writers Block

 

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Writers Block

I have ideas

when I dream

But when I wake

they fade like steam.

I sit with paper

and its gaps

To scrape for ideas

hope for scraps

I make excuses

divert the task

I’ll do whatever

the detour asks

I need to focus

and let thoughts fly

The contradiction

in minds eye

And then it comes

and writes itself

It gives it life

and rude health

A story made

a living thing

A circle made

Imaginations ring.

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