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Writers Block
May 30, 2017
Sometimes,
I spill my blood onto the paper
In an attempt to empty my mind.
Sometimes,
I hide bright colors in the ink
So my thoughts aren’t coated in grey.
Sometimes,
I use up hours of my time
Trying to translate my heart to my head.
But sometimes,
Forming words are an impossible feat,
Let alone beautiful ones.
© Sara D., Aiken, SC
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