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Cathy Devan Jul 2021
what do i write
is it because i have nothing to write
or because i have a lot of things to write about
i just started to write just so i can fill the paper
and it's not empty
let me stop because i will fill the whole book and i have borrowed it
©Grace Njeri
Cathy Devan Jul 2021
She wishes she was a cave,
So she could echo back,
Her poetry,
On paper,
Or maybe leprechaun,
Could summon her writer spirit,
And she would bleed,
On paper,
Like before,
When she felt weightless,
Like paper,
And free like the wind.
©Cathy Devan
The blank sheet stares at you
   just your perception

That it's your foe
   a misconception

It's your partner, your friend --
   enfolds your verse in love

Breathe deeply... exhale
   your words dance above
writers block
Faltering plans
An indecisive mind,
Consistency in itself is an art
An explosive start!
Followed by;
Fumbling fingers and idiotic ideas.
What next?
Do we pitstop like Hamilton?
We were in pole position.
Reassert, focus and keep on track.
We are the drivers of our own Destiny...
©️ 2021 Joshua Reece Wylie. All rights reserved.

I've been trying to keep up one poem a day. It's tough. I'm sure other writers can relate. This poem is about trying to keep that target going. A Formula 1 racing theme was completely unintentional and off the cuff, but seemed to work nicely. So it stayed and I kinda like the end result. I hope you do too.
I lay out the paper
I pick up my pen
I rattle my head again and again
Yet nothing emerges, I draw a blank
Just like this paper, all but blank
This mind far from empty, my thoughts race
Yet I can't get them down, can't find a pace
This mind of mine, so sporadically poetic
This mind of mine, equally pathetic.
Nathan Feb 2021
Words.
I used to write them daily
My pen filled with ink
It found the darkness inspiring
My loveless life shown through prose

But now I'm apathetic of feeling
My once ink filled pen
No longer paints poems of pain
It doesn't sing the song of serenity
The ink has run dry
I'm all out of......
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