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.
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