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On the creative process being not dissimilar to archery...or some shit like that...

Raz

Bluelighter
Joined
Aug 11, 2002
Messages
7,329
Location
In an igloo made of asbestos and chicken-wire.
Maybe this is embarassingly bad, I dunno...but i'm kind of really drunk and under some kind of delusion that I can write rhymes, so I better post it now while I got beer courage. :)
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I know my rhymes have got no flow
My mind it's like a busted bow
I got the arrows and I know
they can wound and they can kill
cause I know I got the will
but the words don't come out right
I can try all fuckin' night
I can type and type and type
I can sit here till it's light
but it's all the fuckin' same
it's become another game
I can't win, can't even draw
and it's like an open sore
What's a poison arrow for
when the bow won't even shoot
fuck I might as well be mute
let the silence just take root
let it stop this constant whine
and just keep it all inside
--Raz--
 
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