Friday, June 10, 2005

My Untouchable Void




Empty,
I sit at my desk
Staring at the
Blank page

I long to be like the others
Producing,
Expressing.

My opinions beg to be shared
But the abyss grows
As I keep time with my pencil
One tap at a time

Tears leak from my eyes
as its overwhelming hollowness
Consumes me

I call
But they wont come
I reach
But they’re too far

So I’m left alone

Stretching,
Towards my untouchable
Void


2 comments:

hannah said...

I love the conversation this poem sparked about how great writing is, and the more you do it, the better you get -- there's just no getting around it.

fbw said...

I love this poem- You have a great talent- don't ever stop writing- Nameste'