My destenation is my imagination,

to reach in and spill it out on paper.

ink stains my canvas- fingerprints

on my keyboard- ive had a stroke of

genius and i show it all as write

these stanzas.

my mind is full and its all bleeading

out into poems... poems about...

anything i feel inside- all the pain

inside my crowded mind.

Feelings are all buzzing at once,

that have been stored all through

my writers block- the hibernation of

my ideas untill my sudden splurg of

insperation. I sat and had some

meditation- took some time for

dedication to write a poem, my

head was overflowin, my fingers

couldn't move fast enough to keep

up with my thoughts moving at

million miles per hour. my first

writers block- i got across- build a

bridge to cross the river of thoughts

that were locked up - blocked up- by

my writers block.
 
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