Drawing a Blank

Poem by Sage Clark ’23

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Unfocusing my eyes as

thoughts run dry from my mind, 

sitting in this softly lit room. 

The insistent ticking of a childhood clock

lays upside-down at the nightstand, 

drowning in residue of unfinished work. 

A rhythmic sound weaving through 

stacks of ripening books, 

piles of papers,

strewn aside in a fit of anguish. 

Pictures pinned to a board 

disrupt the stilled atmosphere, 

their faint scraping

brought on by the overhead fan.  

The breeze brings a crisp, 

unlively humour to the room

which numbs my bare hands 

as they trace over a keyboard for years on end.

Hours spent in disarray 

bleed into each other,

a broken ink cartridge spilled

on a cream colored sheet. 

So much to do and all the time to do it, 

yet there’s never enough 

seconds in a minute,

minutes in an hour;

a missing sense of motivation.

An empty conscience is most welcomed 

when the ongoing stream of noise

in your head 

D

    r

        a

            g

                 s 

on for too long.

Providing a wash of relief 

when the swarming of bees in the back of your mind

Finally slows to a comforting silence 

and draws a blank. 

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