Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Stuck once more

Some nights I sit
Some nights I lay
Waiting for inspiration to come my way
But creativity cannot be contained
It cannot be demanded
It must be felt

But how does one express
The song of your heart
The fire within your soul
When the passion within has been smoldered

I look back on the works I’ve created
The emotions I’ve felt
And wonder
If I should ever feel them again

My writing
Like me
It comes
And goes
With a flourish

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