by Kelly Charlton

Created on: August 30, 2010

The coffee-stained page mocks,

"So, you want to be a writer. Ha. Ha."

You'd be better off dumping trash or cleaning toilets,

something simple that pays, you know."

Gripping my pen, I scream at the page,

I stab, and stab, and stab

Taking out frustrated love and raging

at words that won't come

on a  page that is still blank,

a page that laughs, taunts,  and eggs me on.

"I love her!" I scream. "I want her to be mine!"

"So write about that,' the page whispers.

The words begin to flow.

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