Without a Plan
He sits within the deep recesses of his mind.
Covered in thoughts.
Words unsought.
He dwells on the past.
When days were brighter,
Happier...
But he's stuck in depression.
What to write,
How to write it,
When and where.
Ideas soar and fade in an instant
Why couldn't it be easier?
What is simple to others becomes so hectic for him
His demise lies in its hands,
Total confusion reigns supreme.
It's job is done.
ohh yeah been there
ReplyDeletethis piece reminds me of the writers' blocks i used to fret over.well done.now i just take them in stride and create around them.
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