Iteration number 1 – the original
I stare at the blank page in front of me.
The white glow of the screen seems to be blinding.
A black cursor sits small on the page.
It blinks at me.
My hands hover over my keyboard.
My fingers flex but never touch the keys.
My entire personality has flown out the window.
Who am I?
What do I find interesting?
What do I have to talk about?
What do I have to add?
Have I ever had an original experience?
I feel as blank as the page in front of me.
As pure as though I was just born.
I’ve had no experiences.
I’m not interesting.
I close my computer.
Iteration number 2 – For this poem I didn’t change much just a few words that I thought may fit what I was trying to say better. I was also told during peer review that the line “As pure as though I was just born.” didn’t seem to fit. So I played with a few different ideas to change there. I only ended up revising this once.
I stare at the empty page in front of me.
The white glow of the screen seems to be blinding.
A black cursor sits small on the page.
It blinks at me.
My hands hover over my keyboard.
My fingers flex but never touch the keys.
My entire personality has flown out the window.
Who am I?
What do I find enjoyable?
What do I have to talk about?
What do I have to add?
Have I ever had an original experience?
I feel as blank as the page in front of me.
As though I’ve been rung out like an old rag.
I’ve had no experiences.
I’m not interesting.
I close my computer.
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