How to Write in Ten Painful Lessons

The page stares up, blank

as I push down the pen down.

Into the paper.

Making a point.

No, I’ve no Idea! Mind clouding.

The perfect introduction alludes me

as I stare

down

the

page,

And with Sisyphus’ grievance

Jerkily scrapes a line across the page

making a single, lonely sentence.

I tear it up: it is not right

unfitting for such a world.

The boulder crashes down.

The page stares empty.

The pen is growing sedentary

The hill looms: dauntingly

The clock strikes the second

painfully                       loudly

I know I’m using up time…

But isn’t the boulder meant for eternity??

I didn’t know anymore…

Time is twirling away

The distinct gleam of light is gone.

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