Thursday, June 9, 2011


The book is empty
No poems, no story

Thoughts might be transferred
from the written to the blank

Fascinated words of others
Trying to write my own.
Mystery is my mind,

The past is hectic
heaps of data misplaced
soon to be sorted
levels of happiness, levels of wisdom

The journey, new adventure
Remembering and applying
Going back to solve the future
My present diary will tell

-Claudia Luna

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