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Time Alone Time alone for this pen to move along the pages, sabotaged by demands of family obligations. Jealous interruptions intrude on quiet resolve, to put words into thoughts with the time I'm allowed. Time alone behind the doors of midnights façade, as the slumbering house is quite from its exhaustive tirade. Within the shadows of darks disguise stories come to mind, spilling contemplations into creative late night designs. Time Alone I steal in simple unexpected places:during a moment's walk or on the road of destinations, during lulls in conversations that conjecture life's unspoken madness. Ideas that shake me from a sound sleep, for the bedside tablet. Time Alone please, for ideas of inspiration to form, as the hand gives voice to words waiting to be born. Silent recluse, Times arm of hypnotizing revelations, a magic spell within the quiet houses' expectations. Time alone you proclaim has become my obsession, a conspirator in the art of selfish expression. As I write in moment's greed, I may leave you behind, I can't wait for you to release me, I have no time. |
Additional Notes:
Not everyone understands the need of every writer to be allowed the spontaneity that comes with creative impulses. Spouses and children in particular.Written two yrs. ago, I thought it would be interesting to hear the feedback.
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