Posted in Poetry, Writing

No Choice

Forcing the pen into my hand and the paper thrust at me, I had to write it.

I tried to pull away but could not break free from the compulsion.

The obsession.

The constant barrage of images, teasers, and daily prompts would not let me be.

My Taskmaster has me lying awake, sleepless nights, with verbiage arranged and rearranged in my head.

I’m helpless.

I have no choice but to write.

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Image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay