The brick that so
desperately
Wanted to leave the
building
-strike out on its own-
Didn’t think freedom
would come
At the hands of a bomb
Or that it would
End up in
A
Pile
Of
Rubble
The blank page is sunny day on my face.
I like putting ideas on there to sunbathe in its warmth.
It’s possibility.
I like watching it transform to something.
Anything.
But not just anything,
Something that communicates
And communifies us together
The more muddled the page
The more lumledd the page
The more dumeled the page
The less space there is
And so I start again on a blank page
On a different sunny beach