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Related to the curse I deal with - ease with poetry, but struggle with narrative. |
| A writers curse My mind has bursted Overflowed Too many stories Wild fit fictions Tortured by my scattered thoughts I could not raise my dictions The heft was mighty And though I felt strong These words too many to lift Instead they scattered Across my pages Witless sorrowed afflictions to sift My tattered patchwork consciousness Sentence structure garbled That hapless melange of word-vomit Paying penance for all Ive harbored Years passed by Ive waited Now my mind has dried and pruned These wild fit fictions lifted me But my struggling lines consumed Now I fear my mind has burst Stories squirting from my brain Trying to catch them organized But only tattered dictions remain |