A Hand in the Attic
By vithano
Up in the attic In the deep of the night A pale hand is writing Against the pain and the fright. That small hand is writing Hungry and haunted, Waiting to waken The people below; It waits to waken The people with words Furtively taken From the deep of the night; Yet no one listens To the crawl of the pen On sheaves of crisp paper Again and again; No one listens In the deep of the night To the hand in the attic That wakens to write.I dedicate this to all poets in us who have, like in WindancerJ's poem, died a prosaic death. That same poem was what inspired this present effort. Written November 12th, 2001 © on Nov 12 2001 09:45 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Up in the attic..."