The blank page

Beckons while the cursor

Blinks, menacingly. It’s

Waiting for my coffee

To be drunk, for my laundry

To be folded. Pandora


Asking, “Are you still there?”

Demanding immediate action

Yet I remain

Unmoved, attempting to

Wrangle thoughts that

Struggle against constraints

Yearning for freedom that

Lies beyond the

Open window.



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6 thoughts on “Progress”

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