sitting here staring blankly at a blank page
thinking on those things that until this second
seemed sufficiently worthy of writing
(still staring)
vacuous vapor and vapid volumes
lacking soul, substance, form or fire.
and me, mired in muddy misfit musings,
incapable of escaping this harness in my head.
immobile immovable immutable immaterial thoughts
stuck in the muck with the pointless pen...
I just don't have the words.
******
I didn't exactly intend for this to be a poem. But then it was. Or might be. Poemesque, anyway. Either way, so be it.
No comments:
Post a Comment