On days when I lack mull appeal
My empty net without a catch
Inspiration stations on the blink
When interlocks refuse to latch
I gather up a ball of loose ends
After filtering the knots
Sit back and stare at empty air
Not even focusing on spots
My inner self maybe annoyed with me
For overlooking brainy clues
Not hearing words that call to mind
The simplicity of muse
No comments:
Post a Comment