Amateur

So, I started a poetry diary in November because I had a blank journal...really inspiring reason, right? I am taking a stab at this poetry thing, and here is one I wrote recently:

Clatter and Clutter

Night shrouds my window
paper clutters my desk
and I cling to a concept of you not finished yet

My mind begins to race
and I can't move beyond
the monotonous pulse of that long-forgotten song

Which echoed in my ears
and left an imprint so deep
that I can't comprehend or contain all you teach

So put corks in my ears
and a veil over my eyes
but I'll still never calm the commotion inside

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