I see this blank page before me, and I want to fill it With something With anything I want to make people think again I want to think again It's an impulse I have that I can't deny I can't get through it either I can't satisfy the need to get it down It stays, it lingers It yells at me, it's a dictatorship Writing is an entrapping prison Life sentence No walls, no boundaries But an addiction for the pen, like a drug When will they declare this illegal? This poisonous drug that corrupts my brain Welcome back Kotter My dealer, the merchants and teachers My obsession, positive
1/17/01
