Poetry of the writer

My day starts and ends in the same place where it begins.

Here at my desk I sit with a  fresh cup of coffee in hand.

I turn on my laptop with a push of a button, and proceed to to wake up my brain with a read through my favorite blogs.

Book must, Paula acton, along with the ever popular I didn’t have my glasses on, can always be counted upon.

After a delightful mental warm up, I move on to the important stuff.

With a click of a word doc I immerse myself into a world where writing, fighting, preserving, and the art of trying holds the to key to surviving, for young Rebecca Reilly.

I type and I type, and I type some more till I’ve reached that critical juncture.

I’ve either just written one thousand words, or I have just completed a chapter.

Either way it is considered to be, not a bad day worth of work for this aspiring writer.

Top it off with a blog post of my own and I remain one happy writer, and so I end my day in the same place where I began.

Sitting at my desk with a keyboard under my hands.

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