I cannot write. I feel blank. I recently heard a poet say they often go back to the first line of poems they started but could not finish...and work from there. God, how many first lines I've written, left to dangle upon a single line, doodle, or cocktail napkin. An attempt to build from that could be interesting. Mainly because these first lines came from so long ago.
Okay, lets take a poem from 6th grade titled "The pain of the point"
My first line being:
"They say only time heals"
well I'd like to say it merely conceals
for decades later, the wound feels fresh
unless you take that daring step
to change things for once
to bandage your wound
stitch the open sore
and believe you are capable
of moving on
you are
so capable
time only heals
if you choose to let it do so
but why go ahead and do it yourself
a conscience decision to heal
to become whole once again
by no means easy
and by all means possible

you can allow yourself to bleed
to wait for Father Time to take away
the pain and sorrow you wallow in
or you can so NO I will not wait
to once again become whole

the choice is yours.
they say only time heals
I say only the mind believes it will heal
and by doing so, you become whole...
once again