Robbed

When you have an idea and someone else has it before you!

Excruciating pain

No pleasure to the ears

The music you play is terrifying

Like many broken mirrors

Intense but not my taste

It is just too boring

I slouch in my chair

Like it's a Monday morning

I think about other things

My plans, my life, my job

No poem will I write today

My ideas have been robbed

No ghosts have whispered in my ears

I've lost my train of thought

The train that keeps you chugging

That never ends or stops.