Why I write
Written on
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night
Grasping on to the tail of an escaping idea
I make it my pet and stroke it till dawn
It grows by the minute and demands to be fed
When I refuse it goes wild
Clattering around making a mess of my mind
It grows so fast that I cannot contain
It begs to be released and I relent
I give it a shower and brush its mane
Some nips here and there
And when it’s clean and appealing to the eye
I sigh and I let it go.
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