Sound of Creation

Notes spread over the paper

White sheets filled with black.


Trying to match the sounds in your head

To the marks on the page.

814037719_258fdab1a1You can hear it all around you

On this bleak, day of shadow.

The sounds are filling your head,

Trying to escape

Yet trying to stay true to the original


Are you an artist? or a madman?

At times you cannot tell the difference

Which is what and what is which?

You can only do what you must


Crumpled paper

Discarded in black and white balls

Littered all over the desk

One, thrown in a fit of


Comes to rest near the window panes

Looking out onto a world of greyness.

Ask yourself, is this the best I can do?

For now, it is.


You try to come as close as you can

Yet the words still fall short of the true beauty of

The rain.



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