The Block

Alphabets become the bane of your existence
A blank page, your enemy
Your sharpest pencil, nothing more than a blunt weapon
Your cup of coffee, just a pool of disappointing company

Others don’t seem to notice the difference
The longer days and shorter nights
The precision with which the cogs toil
And the elegance with which pen meets paper

Others don’t seem to notice the beauty
The innocence, pain and elegance
The layers beneath the obvious
And the faith with which each day passes

There’s no contact that you yearn for more
No wait longer than having the two worlds collide
When will your masterpiece take shape?

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