I Know Myself

Sitting - just sitting, straining hard to rhyme

a poem that shouldn't be, shouldn't start.

i'm wasting energy and wasting time,

left with deep sighing, dry eyes, pounding heart.

Tired yet restless, sleepy yet awake;

2 AM is no time for writing.  Still,

i sit and i write, just for writing's sake,

this poem.  With it, i'll do as i will,

but i'm no more the master of its fate

than it is of mine.  The pencil just moves

on the paper; i merely sit and wait

for the end.  i write, the poem approves.

Still, it must end and the poem must shine

when i've finished writing the final line.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is the result of trying to force myself to write something - anything.  i've been wanting to get out of this writer's block for ages!

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