ProcessA Poem by PianoFiendMy writing process, simplified and extoledTense words, Strike the keys, find the word, find the word, find the word. Process, strained and stained, prosaic at best. Brutally loved by the worst kind of person, Words fall. My dearest apologies to you. Process be damned, Light falls from the lips, Darkness crawls along the seams. Closing in are all those words, the ones whose voices seem so weak; So stricken, grief-ridden, guilty, Cried the last woman. Alive no doubt. Alive At last, you state. How odd; The peculiar sense of everything. What’s to say it all? A burden, no doubt, crying in misery, An aberration in the soul of the word, A heart to the end, an end to its heart. Boring at its best. © 2011 PianoFiend |
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1 Review Added on November 17, 2011 Last Updated on November 17, 2011 AuthorPianoFiendLincoln, CAAboutMy name is Misty, I am 15, and I go to Lincoln High School. Who I am can be found in my writing, though not directly. My favorite writers are: Fyoder Dostoevsky, Lewis Carrol, and J.K. Rowling. M.. more..Writing
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