Wiping the froth of fear from my mouth’s corners,
I recognized my idleness and sundered from it,
retrieving my old journal to draw the brunt
of my dull terrors into simple words.
But I waited too long; having long shouldered
the pecking burden, like some cerebral Hercules,
I found I had forgotten all my fertile questions
and had only answers left.
This poem was written in response to Poetry Prompt #109 on Read Write Poem.
Hercules and the Hydra
Have you ever kept a journal? How did you use it (ie. to record the activites of your day, to vent when you needed to, to pour out volatile emotions)?