I stare at this blank canvas,
And a million words and phrases come to my mind.
All heartfelt.
All sad.
But I cannot seem to form these words into something useful, Something that someone else can understand
From the outside looking in.
Hopelessness comes in many forms,
And one of them is a blank canvas with the willingness to write,
But the inability to let the words fall out beautifully on the paper.
Maybe the reason it is so difficult,
Is because every great word
Has already been paired with a great sentence,
Which has been spoken by the lips of another before us.
Somehow,
Somewhere,
There was a disconnect between my thoughts
And my fingertips.
In my mind,
Words float freely
And create sad melodies.
But none long enough to
Derive the emotion a great song deserves.
And for that reason,
I will not force my thoughts out onto paper,
Rather,
Hold them in.
Until the spill out
All on their own.
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