Writing Wrong’s Pain (Part 1?)

A pantoum after Ram

Free picture from Pixabay, https://pixabay.com/en/fantasy-transcendence-composing-2437944/

Where to even begin?
I dreamed my muse picked up my pen
And filled the page with a spin.
Yet I couldn’t begin to decipher its words.

I dreamed my muse picked up my pen.
I knew it to be a true friend and guide,
Yet I couldn’t begin to decipher its words.
So I opened my mouth to speak.

I knew it to be a true friend and guide.
I thought it would tell me what I’d tried to hide.
So I opened my mouth to speak
As the muse fell silent at my feet.

I thought it would tell me what I’d tried to hide.
I thought it would unlock the pain within my mind.
As the muse fell silent at my feet,
It had no words and I began to weep.

I thought it would unlock the pain within my mind,
But in its glance I knew the truth.
It had no words and I began to weep.
I had disappointed it somehow.

But in its glance I knew the truth
I and I alone could only right the unspoken wrong.
I had disappointed it somehow.
I had to earn its respect and trust once more.

I and I alone could only write the unspoken wrong.
And filling the page with a spin,
I had to earn its respect and trust once more.
Where to even begin?


This poem is part of the Passing Pantoums project on Chalkboard. I borrowed a pair of lines from this pantoum:

And Ram borrowed the lines from Tamyka Bell in her pantoum, Around the Block

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.