11/23/2011 § Leave a comment



I am blank, simply blank. I have myself to Thank, for this miserable blank. An empty tank my mind, damn this blank! Not a thought rolls in or out, lean this mind, which is usually stout. I have no doubt if I had a thought, I would let it out.


All the same, I am blank. I sat to ponder, and then my heart sank, for my mind is a blank. 

Damn you blank! 

Empty, as a summer creek blocked by a dam. Empty, as a threat from a cowardly man. Empty, as the stomach of a newborn lamb. 

Yes I am blank. 

No tales with abnormal plots. No pictures with bright green blots. No clay twitted into lopsided pots. 

I have nothing to share. My mind does not care. It is all I can bear. 

I am blank. 

It may be that I’m okay. It may be that I have nothing to say. It may be that I’m pleased. That I could create with easy, but I find not need. 

I might be angry. On the other hand, I could be sad. I might be content. What ever it is, it is not evident. 

Damnit, I’m blank! I want to pen a poem of the wind, or drop a rhyme of where I have been. I want to paint the sky, or sketch flowers that are about to die. I would like to write a play, or convey my thought of the day. 

I could have forgotten everything I have learned. Would that not be ironic if this is where my mind has turned? When to learn is all I yearn. 

Still, I am Blank…


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