When Words Fail

When words fail me, the sight of a sharpened pencil
And a blank drawing paper is so irresistibly "drawing"
That with a Chinese brush and India ink, I see
A picture of people and things--in black and white.
And to bring myself back "into the light,"
I need to have anything "in print," like
A book, a magazine or a newspaper as company.
And yes, silence--my oxygen.
But most of all, I need a "star that shines
All night and day," to guide my every small step turn
Into a long walk, every single time...
From Avenue "A" to Street "Z."
But realizing fully that a star is unreachable,
And that the sun, I've really had enough of,
Because it turned me like a grain of burnt-
Fried rice, I'd look up to the moon instead.
(I must declare that the moon is probably why many
A time, I would find myself "lost" in soliloquy.)
And I would become a "Balagtas," and many times,
Even a "Whitman," a "Sandburg" and a "Doone."