Give me something
cried the pen
See, seee these words
too random to speak
too mild to marry
too small for the big, white paper
I've got stories to tell but the hand hesitates
Unlock your elbow! he shouts up to the arm
Let me dance instead of march
Let me drop under the line
It's my blood you spill on nothing
Free me before I'm all used up
Monday, May 16, 2011
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