My pencil strokes are unhurried
I trace the grooves in the paper
Gray graphite reveals nothing
An art best left to someone else
My notes fall out of the staff
F#,Ab, I am diminished by music
Incomplete composition tells truth
An art best left to someone else
My dialogue overflow my brain
Rivulets of water from a mountain spring
Sloppy scripts say nothing of myself
An art best left to someone else
My thoughts burst into being
Creation for creation’s sake
Rapid revelations mean little
A life best left to someone else
Poetry Overdose 