Loss of Creativity
You reside behind my eyeballs,
but you most enjoy paralyzing my fingertips.
You feast on the thought-clots
plugging my brain.
You see what I once saw
because you watch what is stolen from me,
as I desperately grasp at what
was digested long ago.
When will my mind be freed?
When will my imagination be reborn?
Copyright ©
R C | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
