A fresh blank leaf, and it can be anything
And with each new word you chop away possible futures
And create and amputate
And the words you caught seem worthless when you glimpse the ones you could've chased
But they've got one thing going for them, they exist!
And they lie on the paper in front of you
And you (try to) write carelessly
And end up with a poem -- the only one you could have written, the only one you have
And who cares about your unwritten volumes when you've got these twelve lines, black on white
You amputate many futures
But you create one present
And it is worth many times more
Type: art.poetry.original
Produced by: Kyrie Eleisen
Notes: none.
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