Writer’s Un-block

My heart flies

No longer running in circles

With the knowledge of the skies.

I see the exits.

On my roundabouts.

Never picking to hex it.

Hex being a verb

Of malicious intent

Always one that makes me perturbed.

But the roundabouts

Where decisions are considered,

Places where I play about.

They’re a concept in my mind

Keeps me sharp

So I never feel too far behind.

Like a palace,

But it’s a landscape

Held within my chalice.

I can get stuck there,

Digesting information,

Until I know exactly where,

The words should strike.

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