This is a thing I wrote when I was 14.
Trying to turn this whiteness into colour
The ideas don’t come the blankness just stares at me
Laughing at my frail attempts to cover it up
My brush skims the surface time and time again
The marks do not make any sense
They confuse and annoy me
There is only one way out of this stalemate
I grab the whiteness with both hands
I rip, tear, throw, punch and kick until the whiteness is no-more
Then I retake my seat and look down
The darkness just stares back at me and laughs
After years of keeping this side of me in check these feeling are coming back.
I like it. Work written from the heart (whether at 14 or 34) always tends to have an impact.
D
Ouch *hugs* that is good ;o) if dark and bleak.
Odd how the worst times bring out the best in our creativity.
Brave of you to share, I hope they aren’t returning
I used to write poetry in High School. I took a look back a couple of months ago….wow were they horrible lol. I applaud your bravery for posting yours and they are a million times better than mine!…I esecially like this one! I love the end.