I have so much to say, but yet nothing can escape.
My ears get deffened by the silence of my own shout.
My eyes stare at an empty page and my hand refuses to write,
what is that about?
My brain is a wash with thoughts and opinions – but they all fade away.
my dreams happen both at night and during the day.
I chase after them, trying to tie them down to paper,
but then they just…you know…all turn to vapor.
I make lists and notes but they all make a jumble,
I try to get organised but I continue to fumble,
Notebooks new and un-used gather dust, lay by a window.
If I manage to start, I fail to continue.
The covers soon look all grey and aged,
but inside is like new with nothing on the page.
Hollow and empty like the cold,
wishing I could say something so profound and so bold.
I’M SO CONFUSED!
Why does this happen? is it me?
Have I lost all my vocabulary?
Is this a crisis, hitting me in the mid-life?
stress holding me hostige with a sharp-knife?
Am I depressed? too sad or feeling down?
try to lift myself up like “heavy the head that wears the crown”
Like a dog without a bark, or a bird without its squark,
a poem without any heart will inevitably fall apart.
And it does.
I can forget events and an entire day at a time,
If you ask me that should be a thought crime.
Name and dates all fade to black
unless you said something funny or made an impact.
Nor happy or sad, it cant discriminate Good or bad
My thoughts are a dessert, both empty and dry
Leave me guessing
who am I?