Writer’s Block

I endure my past like waves crashing against rocks,
Longing for a change that cannot be obtained,
Time has disappeared and the numbers on the clock blurred,
A dagger to the heart, a lock on emotions,
Emotions that cannot erupt and has no breaking point,
Death makes me numb and life makes me cold,
My thoughts embark on a chilling journey each day,
Lost and without cause, no purpose to my name,
I wonder if love exists or even my own name,
Why am I here and why does the raven fly,
Why does the sun set and why do the stars hang,
Was there such a painter or did it evolve to be imperfection,
I hold to no cause and move no more, its all perfection,
Like a raven without wings and a runner without legs,
There is nothing for me here, only darkness satisfies me,
Pen and paper, my mind to the grind,
Who would know this could be an author's mind.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem