Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Ambreen

I sat there glumly
with my head bowed
lips pressing on my clasped fingers
my eyes not meeting the blinking screen.
Too afraid and ashamed.
Nothing I wrote worked.
The writer had disappeared
silently, watching from the shadows
my next move
not knowing whether his failure
will mar my existence forever
or grant it the redemption
it may not deserve.

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