The Non-Writer

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Lit and puffed a cigarette
Stared at this discouraging, sulking paper
I bid my pen to hustle and reveal me something
It just stared at me bewildered.
 

Took a sip of my coffee
I glowered outside my window
Seeking for words, ordering sense
Penetrating ideas to savage my thoughts.
 

As my pen muttered and inked a few lines
This parchment ached for more
Savoring the taste of its orgasmic ink
Convulsing on the words it commits.
 

Another creation is penned
By this scribbler who cannot write
My dashed thoughts, dashed words
My pride.   

The Non-Writer | Ecency