Dec 23, 2013

The Boulder

I must write 
 to trail the shadows of my thoughts. 

 Struck I've been and flatten 
by the writer's block 
 one gi-enormours boulder, 
my universe of words held under 
 crippled fingers, stuck. 
Deadbeat Muse defunct, astray. 
trapped behind sequester, gray 

Lost thoughts in disarray.  
 Absent mind while tired eyes 
 stare listless and void, 
low whispers go paranoid.
Work for wages, work and wages.. 

   Is this all that's left to life? 
Work for wages, work for wages.. 
       Is the only way to thrive?

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