Funny right?

Nobody ever acknowledges it, just talks about it,

well, reels and reels in panic about just that lacking

inspiration, inability to put anything down,

not a lacking desire, just a slacking fire,

the burning candles are all smoldering inside a tempest

of angst driven loss of

purpose.

For that is why we right ourselves in society,

to be ‘write’ with the stars,

to feel as if every step we take moves us a little further,

closer to that gradual incline toward

satisfaction.

So tonight, as I write, complete and utter bullsh …

well just know before I even laid down a word,

I had nothing, nada, nil inspiration,

I was standing on a block of ice,

damned if it even refused to melt,

provide some imbalance,

a reason to want to, ah, well,

a desire to,

a passion with a need,

to speak,

to talk about it,

or at least … write.