THE POEM FOUND For too many days the muse has locked hierself in a room so I take my cello outside and play to the moon, to bribe the silent candle of madness. What is life but to study the word like a primitve dance that only a few of us watch in secret. Enter the ark alleys, the nameles streets where we once played, the empty rooms we occupy that seem like forever. Write if you must, not for the joy of the heart but for the silence of the stars. Whatever stirs in the eye and begs for attention don't dare let pencil touch paper, let this disturbnce pass. Time is a discipline, wait 'til the words can sing, the puzzle solved, the poem foundBirth sign: Taurus
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