Have I lost all inspiration?
have I said all I can say?
Has my river of poetry run dry?
or will it flood again someday?
I feel like I”m writing the same poem
over & over a hundred times
just with different words here & there
but the message is cut & dry:
I’m getting over a wonderful boy
after I said no, & moved out west,
i regret this choice, but have to accept it
& move on with my internal quest…
I have faith there will be someone
someday out there for me,
in the meantime it’s just rough waters,
though I love my family…
The world around me is gorgeous
The people, someday they’ll understand.
in the mean time, my poor pen,
has got to be tired of being in my hands…
It’s just writing the same thing every night
and it irks me to have lost that spark
am I really that mono-toned & boring?
what ever happened to my creative heart?
It’s like trying to get a car to drive,
as it’s sputtering out of gas,
“c’mon baby, drive just a little farther!”
as i push another poem out fast…
it’s like skipping a stone across a river
but knowing it’s going to sink…
I searched this shore as best i could,
& that rock was the very best, i think…
It’s like trying to sing a song,
when the wind is howling over me,
no words can I hear any more…
I’m loosing my poetry…
I know I was never truly the source
it’s like somebody whispers words in my ear.
I don’t know if they decided to take a vacation?
or if I’m just too stubborn now to hear?