Drops of garbled nonsense leak from my pen to the thirsty paper...
A futile effort to create and contrast...
To sketch out my deepest thoughts and dreams...
To mold just the right words into a visual landscape of my soul...
My mind is blank and weary...
Like stagnate water on a hot, September day...
No breeze... Just stillness...
Just a calm, stingy tranquility that leaves me no inspiration...
I am seeking a humble muse.
A windy day forcing the water to rage...
A flood of utter creativity to break this dull dam...
No comments:
Post a Comment