Growing Numb

The moments on the clock slide by, tick tock. My mind, my thoughts lag with the weather playing tag, the summer heat draws my energy nothing remains from heart-to-soul synergy. Perhaps it's age and time where poetry has no reason nor rhyme, still, I tend to write words and prose unsure of where the process goes. These are mere tidbits of exasperation the skin growing numb in dreams of perspiration forgive me as the brain throbs in hesitations, it's just my random moments of time and space regenerations. I'm dull-witted and confused in mind-numbing news.