so many words are written
to fill our lonely hearts
until the impulse to create
meets an empty page
devoid of inspiration
resulting in verbal damnation

but writing does not materialize
as if the words did not exist
but is a gathering of thoughts
too much to hold inside

and soon our heavy hearts
our pleasures, our joys
our disdain with others and ourselves
become a piece of history
carefully cultivated like a babbling brook
where others sit and ponder
those thoughts from which we hide

© 2005 sara coslett


Photo Artist: Alan Adams
"Oconaluftee River-Great Smokey Mountains"