Frustration an agony unable
to create anything powerless
to capture the something shadows
the raw emotion of being
like answers that flit
from view insubstantial
impossible to snare
I sit in snarls
futile impotent fingers clutch
a full pen stubbornly
withholding its thoughts
an infinity stretches
lined and white and empty

: tabula rasa

this whispered challenge
to forge legacy
are you up to it
can you face
the gauntlet of creation
the discipline to shape
a life
to make
when faced with infinity
how will you efface
the onslaught of the ordinary
how will you answer
the only question:


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