Requiem to my Lost Creativity
Oh! But would that I were able to write as I used to!
I search the cobwebby corners of my cranium
For that first elusive word that will set the ball rolling,
Call others forth in a gush of poetry.
I stare out the window at the not-yet-dawn sky
One word. One phrase; is all I ask.
One ray of sunshine to cut through the fog.
Then gratingly, grudgingly
A few words make it out.
And arrange themselves reluctantly on the screen,
Rust still visible around the edges,
Their ragged ends snagging bits of memory and verse.
My requiem to my lost creativity.
An ode to my adult life's obligations
Here -- my poem du jour for NaPoWriMo.
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