ten sharp pencils

with tears for ink
soul for a page

whatever became of the days
when the words flowed
fast and furious like a
wildfire burning in the soul
pick up the pen
pen to page
its too soon after midnight
but little choice left to me
i must speak
must put pen to page
once came natural as breathing
it will come once again
like going home

with tears for ink
soul for a page

Reviews

[The Iron Horseman]

Ah, writer's angst. Ten sharp words, too! :)