Pens dry, thoughts scattered, losing sight of all the things that mattered,
The things that made me me, how I once felt and believed, now lay
In the rubble of my life aggrieved, I find no motive, no inspiration to share, of the life I'm now living with not a soul aware. The words that once flowed, from my heart upon page, no longer seem important enough to for me to engage. No more rhythm, no more grace, I find nothing but silence has taken its place. This life is brutal, and it's stolen my attention, leaving all that could be said, far to risky to mention. The book seems closed, and the pens dry, nothing to describe right now this life of my, I just hope that the passion I seem to have lost doesn't completely die.
©justin_ur
J