Unseen Tears & Invisible Ink/ Pointless Pencil  


The blank page is to be home alone

To write is to purposefully show

To be published is to grudgingly be seen

To promote is to be belligerently obscene

The blank page now seems a world away for me

A barren planet, a naked moon, a fleapit circus without any fleas

Yet, the only Earth I really want to live on & on & on & on

As long as there’s an overly long & lengthy sheet of white script

To be liked is to disagree on your not-so -finer -points

To be loved is to be emotionally stalked by supposed friends

Only a close reading of a deeper analysis is to (be) truly know(n)

Holiday abroad or vacation from your hometown

Neither matters if the plane never touches down

Tragedy and comedy arm wrestled for my love

All the while I was cheating on them with melodrama next door

Punching the clock, I gave it a left hook

And all it could muster back was a dirty look

Asked if I was joining them for drinks after the fact

I politely made my excuses and sprinted over the field of mines

So what’s the plan?  What’s the state of affairs? What’s the SP?

Create and be damned or destroy and grow old

Ignore the signals from beyond, there’s no intelligence out there

That can’t be dumbed down by the critics around here

Yet, I’ll still go ahead and fill the bookshelf labelled with my surname

And then, and only then, will I get my ticket stamped

                                                     And fly right outta here


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