Limbo

Introspection during a lonely time.

One day blankets of pristine snow
Few days later, melting gray I feel low
Sunshine a plus, no clouds in the sky
I sit in my room as time trudges by
Nothing to watch, trust me I checked
Writing idea after idea I seem to reject
Boredom, ennui, whatever the name
Never changing, it all seems the same
Distraction I seek, to busy my mind
Inspiration, fleeting, I struggle to find
Narratives, impossible to write
Even my poetry seems to read trite
Some days it's easy, others it's not
No rhyme or reason, rhythm or plot
Some days I just want to give up
Convinced that empty is my cup