The Key

December 2, 2014 at 1:32 am (Poetry) (, , , , , )

Constantly trapped

between the multitude and the desire,

the hope to be the spark,

the fire –

The great catalyst of an age.

But still one with the flow,

an ink drop on a page

blacked out by scribblings,

jottings,

drawings –

Everything that was,

is,

may yet be.

Paralyzed by apprehenison –

An obsidonal tension

that my everything is nothing

and my something’s just that.

My every contribution

to the world of self-expression

may only be a splotch,

a blot,

a drop –

but at least my something is just that.

Something.

Anything.

My spark in the fire.

My scribble on the page.

The key to my cage.

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