It's just an idea,
Formless, nameless and vague.
It's just an idea,
A nameless idea,
An annoying, brilliant plague.
I'm sure any readers out there who have ever striven to create something from nothing know this feeling. I was just sitting at my piano, struggling to get an idea to flow from my brain, to my fingers, and then into the keys, but very little made it through. Instead, I found myself mimicking the same key and feel of the song I recently learned, A River Flows in you. Any artist out there, whether you be an author, a poet, a painter or a musician, must know how frustrating that is.
That's the whole idea of the little poem I felt like posting today. I actually just wrote it a few minutes ago. At least a few words made their way out of my head today. It's more than I can say for most of the week. I'm hoping I'll find my inspiration again somewhere, but until I do, I'm stuck doing history homework, and hoping I'll be able to write an essay in an hour and twenty minutes this Thursday. (History exam, yay!)
- Aimee
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