The Wee Hours

If I stay and wait

You dare not come

If I rest my eyes

You appear

This trend makes me

Feel... I am a dry tomato

Left in the oven to burn.

This rage lit with impatience

In a virtuous heart stills

The framework from its

Grand construction.

Wilde words reiterated

Repeated redundantly

Through my mind.

Make it stop, make it stop.

Get this out of my head!

Lest I lose my pen for good.

Reviews

[Yaooooooo]

Wow, powerfull. Why you choose the title "The Wee Hours"??? Overall is a good read, i sence a lot of anger in it. Did you had someone in mind when you wrote this or is just out of pure inspirations?

Make it stop, make it stop.
Get this out of my head!
Lest I lose my pen for good.

I think this is the best part of the poem. I like how you fear the lost of your skill, the thoughts that come to live on paper. I guess writers block is every writters fear. Thats why i love Hemingways quote

"I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it."

Thanks for sharing your ideas, and keep it up...
One!

[Barry S. Maltese]

Oh the writers block that refuses to let you sleep. And when you do rest, it haunts your very essence. The echo it sends through your mind to taunt your being, ALMOST making you regret your dedication to the pen. . . . nicely done! Very enjoyable.