May 02
A thousand unwritten poems
Cats: Personal|
Inspiration is like a whirlwind, an upcoming tide, a beast who rushes you by.
You reach out to grab it by its tail, but it slips through your fingers leaving you even emptier than you already were before.
The pen between your fingers turns from an instrument of creation into an instrument of torture, leaving ink spots on your imaculate sheet of paper.
‘What’s the use of inspiration anyway?’ it writes for itself, ‘when there are thousands of poems unwilling to be written?’
