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Odysée Of The Empty Pen

My pen doesn't write.
I see the ink, but it is empty -
hysterical emptiness...
My thoughts won't come out!
I am stuck in ink.
The thoughts swirl, begging to be released,
threatning exothermic explosions
but trapped - not enough energy.
The process stops, uncontrolled -
energy alert!!!
But how do I get enough energy to release the
rainbows in my head -
floating, flying, crying in my head...?
Maybe flying colors can't be written with
a colorless pen...
boredom's cruel victory comes close -
very close... how do I stop it?
grey colorless black eats me -
I run and scream: The pen is dead!
What will I do?!
the pressure is high...
My head is full, but my pen is empty!
no hope will ever relieve my pain -
this neverending headache that keeps me awake forever...
What should I do - what can I do?
Stop asking those questions!
This rythm in my head is driving me crazy -
Well if the pen is useless...


by Sonja Pieper


Alessia Costantini

A two-minded poem

invented by Alessia and Sonja

copyright 1994

Author: S|S