deep end pool of quiet void

 
 
 
 
  I'd like to think I'd trade all ability to create, for worth while days of get away to some where, with perhaps someone that shares a similar sentiment....giving color to the grey....
 
 
    I'd like to think I'd cap my pen, with little to no reason to pick it up again other then to "celebrate" a feeling of finally a filled space in place of where void once laid....
 
 
  but I.... I am too much of a dreamer of idealistic ways.... and against the grain so much so that who the hell relates? one feels as though I exist alone on an "island night" with "no existing day"....
 
 
tomorrow comes, and as I lay awake; this place shared by many-it all just feels unreal again....so I  find ways to lay one's mental on yet another page with pen....