Awake too soon yet again and I sit on
my bed thoughtfully with my pencil
trying to be profoundly witty with words
reminiscent of my favorite writer, Mark Twain.
Instead, my early-morning one cup of
coffee brain can only manage to ramble
and skip across the surface of what
I’d really like to start the day with.
So full of thoughts already when the day
is in its infancy and yet my body is
too broken today to release this pent up
energy building like fireworks ready to light.
Crashing and booming onto paper will have to do
today whether it be written or art to get
me expended and my voice expressed.
I’m not Twain or Rembrandt, but I’m ALL of me today.
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