Be it white, blue or yellow, pink, purple or green
That has to be the worst thing I have ever seen
A big open space but how to begin
The start of the tale just wont slide in
The middle and end we don’t write first
A sentence that you've long since rehearsed
From being little in your primary class
When stories were monsters no finesse just crass
Ten lines was a story when you were that age
Pretty soon you found you could write a whole page
The words just came out in essays or form
For class or for homework it’s no fun at all
But now you're older and school has gone
You forgot that normally we start at one
One little word somewhere on that page
And before you know it you're in a writing rage!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem