Truth About Writing

Never mind, I don’t know what to say

Sometimes I write all day

Or other days, I hardly scratch out two words

Go ahead, write poetry!

Oh my, you’re so good!

Keep writing!

But nobody ever tells you how it saps you

And deprives of sleep

No one mentions the ghosts that awaken

And condemn your hands to motions

Hardly prepared for all the dreams

I would be allowed to forget

And the nightmares

I would be forced to remember

The question of personal space is none at all

Invaded and berated, you have no safety

Denied and in perpetual demise

You are chained to your pen, pad

Or whatever you’ve committed to

I asked for publicity, and I asked for support

But I did not perceive this would be the way

I'm interested in hearing what you have to say

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