I was born to write


I was born to write

Not fight the interminable fight
Of no sleep
Of fragmented days

I was born to love

Not get my brain picked
And conversely, worry when and if it will

I was born to be true

Not question my ability to function

I want to write, love, be true

Black and blue I am

With worry
For the coming day

Actually later today as it is now late late
Afraid I won’t sleep
Mad that I ate late
Wondering what to do next
As the clock ticks

Meanwhile I know good poetry
Somehow masks the pains and arrows of outrageous fortune

I sigh as I see myself write another
Poem that centers on me

I cannot come out of the box of

At least tonight
As I fight the coming of tomorrow

As opposed to raging against the dying of the light
I would accept permanent night on this night

Such is my fear
For tomorrow

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