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The Yellow Ticonderoga pencil

I get can't get this right no matter how many times I do it The clock continues to click My paper stares back at me empty My mind tires from pitching out ideas only for them to be foul balls The yellow Ticonderoga pencil is lifeless, without amusement It's better half is warm from rubbing against the blank paper Both sit still not from anticipation but from boredom My fingers dance outlining a circle a never-ending ring of what it is to be a writer to read to think to write to read to think to write

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 12/22/2018 2:02:00 PM
Hi Nancy, there are more verses in the universe than there are stars...let the angels and your heart guide you...don't listen to your mind...love & light...^WW^
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Nancy Beckman
Date: 12/27/2018 6:37:00 PM
Thanks for the visit Winged Warrior! I'll keep that in mind :)
Date: 11/23/2018 9:06:00 PM
The poem is already inside you , all you have to do is bring it out. I love your brave verse Nancy, thanks for sharing, nice to meet you.
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Nancy Beckman
Date: 11/25/2018 8:25:00 PM
Nice to meet you! :)
Date: 11/18/2018 11:57:00 AM
I know exactly how you feel Nancy nice job!
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Nancy Beckman
Date: 11/18/2018 5:10:00 PM
Thanks, Mike@
Date: 11/16/2018 5:12:00 PM
Nicely crafted Nancy. Maybe try using a Pilot Pen ultra fine, that's what I use. :) All kidding aside, I really liked this poem today, I could feel the frustration (maybe because I know how it feels) You did a great job with this.
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Nancy Beckman
Date: 11/16/2018 7:15:00 PM
Thanks, Chris! :)