Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2020
There are infinite things to write
To transfer from my tired mind to a piece of blank paper
There are an abundance of words
And even more so thoughts and feelings
So why is it that when I touch my pen to that blank sheet
Any hint or semblance of organization disappears
And I am left with my words scattered
Floating in the void?
Written by
lucy-goosey  17/Cis/:)
(17/Cis/:))   
60
     Imran Islam and BLT
Please log in to view and add comments on poems