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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