Updated: Nov 26, 2018
A poem and painting about being brain dead, idle and frustrated due to a lack of motivation and inspiration to create something.
I'm loosing touch
Why is there too much beauty in the world
that I cannot contain?
What are the words
that should be filling my void?
The music that should have been my song?
Afraid of nothing
Now composes my being
There's no substitute for just a while
Those irreplaceable briefs
Suddenly nostalgia is not an option
Not one moment
Scraps idly hanging on cork boards
Meaningless scribbles on back pages