Before Going To Bed

What to write?
I ask
As I stare at the lined paper
Setting on the table before me

Beautiful poetry?
A speech?
A story?
A description?

I’ve got nothing

Nothing on my mind
Just running words
Accidentally falling from my mouth
Flailing as the rearrange
Before slamming onto these
Lines
An accidental form of verbal
Suicide

And the words rush,
They flow!
But there’s a stone in the river
Sleep
Disrupting the flow

And then everything
FREEZE

Silence
Time stand stills



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