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Apr 2014
There is no time to relax.
No love around to get me to relax,
No woman dancing on the
moonlight stage,
blowing kisses, slapping her *******.
Good enough for others
It makes my eyes ache,
The words I type everyday,
can’t seem to fix my troubles,
My mind snaps,
Where to find the easy way?
Where to find her eyes again?

It will get boring without these
sounds in the stereo floating
around and to get me going…
Fuel.
Give me words to spread on
the white page.

Don’t relax tonight
It may seem you’re losing it
Writer’s block attack
I’ll write-

To smile with fear
is the greatest accomplishment of all.
prose
writing
poet
John Beetle
Written by
John Beetle  London On
(London On)   
540
 
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