The writer stares with glassy eyes ---
Defies the empty page
His beard is white, his face is lined
And streaked with tears of rage.
Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
With passion and precision,
But now his mind is dark and dulled
By sickness and indecision.
And he stares out the kitchen door
Where the sun will rise no more...
-Neil Peart
Defies the empty page
His beard is white, his face is lined
And streaked with tears of rage.
Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
With passion and precision,
But now his mind is dark and dulled
By sickness and indecision.
And he stares out the kitchen door
Where the sun will rise no more...
-Neil Peart
brightnight:
crazy writers 
jaded_fairy:
not pooparific to the poem.. but ... just to you.... i guess.. wait.. idont know....... just responding to your comment.. 