I wish I wrote the way I thought;
With maddening hunger.
I’d write myself a new beginning,
And dictate how the story unfolds.
Then maybe, just maybe,
My mind would stop advancing on me;
It’s heavy, you see…
Surging with thoughts,
That have yet to meet paper.
Ideas and occurrences,
That may never transpire,
Never come to be…
But young minds overflow;
So I wish I wrote the way I thought.