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A single, forlorn, glistening tear,
Disdaining its confinement,
Tumbles down, reveals the flaws
In my mask of refinement.
A single fearful, suppressed thought,
“Give vent to all your sorrow,”
Alarms, but yields to iron bands-
Resolve that others not know!
A single, desperate urgent need,
Distraction from my troubles.
Would God that torments might subside
Before sore anguish doubles.
A single mundane, idle act,
Something of no great value,
Some paper and a pen with ink
Becomes my source of refuge.
A single, paltry, minute dot
Appears upon the page.
Then more, some sparse, but others dense,
Find places on this stage.
A single, timid, awkward session
Inspires earnest interest,
Turning dismal thoughts away
To focus on this new quest.
A single tedious composition,
Stippled thoroughly.
Each dot placed with precise intent,
Progress comes, but slowly.
A single unique diversion
Immerses me completely.
Intense absorption brings new rest,
My cares vanquished, discreetly.
A single wholly finished work
Intrigues, but down inside,
This page of dots transformed to art
Gives power to abide.
A single lovely mountain peak
Complete with trees and lake,
Creation’s majesty revealed,
Designed to soothe heartache.
A single plain white bristol board.
Black dots from here to there,
Delivers genuine relief,
An answer to my prayer.
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