The Blank Page

The blank page—

Sometimes it beckons like a friend.

Other times it mocks me like a fiend.

It can be a weightless delight.

Or a Sisyphean burden that brings me to my knees.

Sometimes I find my groove

And the words just flow.

Other days I feel dry

Like a mirage instead of a fountain.

Writing is a journey, a revelation, a feast.

Some days it feels like a gift.

Some days I’m sure it’s a disease.

There is just one cure for a writer—

A single way to satisfy the urge.

Even when the words resist the call,

You sit down and do some work.


The Blank Page by aabsofsteel

The blank page…

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