I'm Busy

Me
My writing
Pounded into the ground
Working
Learning
Doing what I must
Slowly being dragged away from my poet self
Bound
Shackles
The chains of a busy boy
Somewhere in here
Between the months
I've lose myself
My touch is gone
My fluent rhyming
My special way to weave my words together
It has been scared out of me
Now I stand before you
A shallow husk
And confess how it was mostly my own doing
Taking on extra jobs
Taking extra hours
And for that I'm sorry
I may have lost friends
I still have a few
After all is done
We may begin anew
I want to take the pen
I want to write again
Just typing this awakened something
A creature sleeping inside
But I can't stay long
Another shift
Another job
Another assignment
Alas
Life is hard
I will be back to my old self
I will write more later
But now
I'm busy

Author's Note

Yeah

Reviews

[writingurl14]

awwwwww this poem is sooooooooooo sad! I always hate when i'm too busy to write! I can completely relate!