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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.