Young

February 8, 2018

Today I am young

the spirit is back from a long

fool’s sabbatical

I feel that excitement I once felt

that elation at what can be done

the eyes grow wild

the fingers clack away at an

old black keyboard

with many of the symbols

rubbed off

the words do not write

themselves

they need the fingers,

the frenzy;

today I am undeveloped

things are simple and pure

and effortless

back at the

beginning.

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