Poetry

I am a poet

And words are my life

But lately

The words seem to fail me

Almost work against me

The right words are always wrong

The wrong words…

They’re even worse

The few words left remain unspoken

Not even to become whispers in my mind

Silence has become dominate

And has taken over my vocal soul

Laid my pen down to rest

The words still trapped within

Nonsense is all that I can make now

Explanations cannot be phrased

The words are buried under my warring silence

Chaos has been freed inside my mind

Without the words for guidance this time

Color drains from my world

Stealing the substance of my existence

And as I lay dying secretly inside

The present keeps pushing forward

Forming my future

Maddeningly wordless

Meaningless now

That I have woken

From my poetic slumber

Where my reality lie safe

Deep inside my dreams

And I am far from ready

To break from my place

To take place in this fake charade,

Humanity’s jest of life

And retire my conflicting soul

When there is much to be done

Words to be spoken…

And poetry to be made

Reviews

[Emily B]

Words to be spoken
and poetry to be made.

Awesome words.

[Merenwen99]

This is beautiful and it captures the essence of writer's block in poetry. Lovely :)