Creativity

Creative Some days I am a thinker stuck in a worker’s world, A pontificator and procrastinator with no clear sense or goal, I am lost in my thoughts, unavailable for meetings, Even when I am in one. Some days I am a dreamer stuck in a sleepless night, I’m lost and tired and weary, blinded by office lights, I long for open mountain passes, highways or infinity, Not a wooden desk. Some days I am a runner chained up to a chair, Both longing and exhausted for a road at which to tear, I am privilege and luck though this does not comfort me, Even when I’m running. Some days I’m a musician or poet playfully, I am the embodiment of passion, love and feeling free, I need to make something out of nothing to survive, I am a creative.