I gaze upon my blank canvass
Then I stare at the words above
Im amazed at the words that appear
When my thumbs are free and un cuffed
I often think they have little meaning
My instinct wants words to change
Then it becomes apparent
This stories directions has become maimed
I flow off in a tangent
I flow off in a stream of nerves
As I flow on oblivious
That very hindrance violates my verse
I recall a time where writing was my life
A relationship with paper an pen
The times I'd write until the dead of night and have a book to clench
Maybe that's my downfall
I miss those written words
Maybe it's becoming
doubtful
Paper can't triumph over this technological world
Daniel Hing 28.02.13
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