how foolish of me to assume i could create
something more than words,
verse to make one feel.
i only sit at the keys half awake in the faint halo of my screen in the dark,
inspired by some whim or fancy to write,
encouraged to my study by some notion of a profound thought,
but the feeling escapes me just as fast
devoid of all but the warmth of the laptop on my
chest as i lie empty and mute.
i put no words to paper this night,
only thought about all i could have said
why do the lines elude me i wonder
do the words come at their own pace
or do i have nothing to say.
03/02/2020