They’re here
in my mind,
millions of them.
Ideas courageous,
impeccable, invincible.
Drifting like stars in
a galaxy.
Packed away like books on a shelf,
waiting.
Waiting.
As my pencil hovers
I sift through all
my stars, my books,
my ideas.
I can feel it mounting,
gaining, growing.
Ready to burst into flame.
To bloom,
to explode.
I can’t choose.
It’s overwhelming,
the possibilities soaring high
above the clouds.
I’m ready... but
all I see is the thin
white, blank,
piece of paper
in front of me.
Gender:
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