I sit with an empty page in front of me
And an even emptier mind.
Frustration boils inside of me
But still no words come...
I let my head fall into my hands.
For what is a writer,
A poet,
Without her words?
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
I sit with an empty page in front of me
And an even emptier mind.
Frustration boils inside of me
But still no words come...
I let my head fall into my hands.
For what is a writer,
A poet,
Without her words?
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