BLOCKED

Instead of giving my mind some rest Switched on to ace my mind to test. Checked if inbox, had comments new At Poetry Soup, my poems are few. Then went on to read a few reviews. Books and movies, that made breakthroughs. Lines and letters crammed my head. Brushed them aside and walked instead. To breathe in the fresh morning air. To search for similes, metaphors rare Imagery, pun, litotes drew. Then rushed to PS for thoughts anew. Saved some time to read the themes, That titles of poems attempted to scream. In the pen of a poet, the mind undone. Bruised ego, surrender fun. Time and distance, love and life, Of all the themes, did death survive. Savored words that rose within. Limericks, at last, let the creator win. Flawless they surged, my mind at war. Penned the images that left few scars. Tired eyes begged for rest. Fingers danced in mellow zest. Echoes of past cascaded through, Referred to a version of the me anew, In the files, where fleeting time had last-- An hour at the most, after days have passed. Once again, the blankness glared, Mocking at me, my zeal had flared. Pain is sometimes an inspired thought Left unsaid, it’s a war unfought.