Thursday, May 30, 2019

Ann Christine Tabaka writes

Words Spill Out

Torn open,
words spill from the wound,
leaping off the paper,
cascading to the floor.
Chasing them,
they tumble out the door.
Reaching out, they elude my grasp.
Following I become lost.

An empty ache torments my mind,
wondering where they vanished to.
Capturing one,
then another,
but there is no cohesion.
Phrases running amok in my head,
drift slowly to my pen.

But alas, there is no tale to tell,
only words stacked up one
against the other.
They will not align themselves
to paint the image that I hold within.
No panacea for my plight.
Another day,
another week,
and words spill out again.
Image result for writer's block paintings
Writers Block -- Jim Lively

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful poem! Emotion to words is a long and ardous journey.


Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?