I don’t want to go to school or get a job
My creative flow and time are robbed
I sob

Just let me be a hermit in my room
Alone with my mind and its contents
My tomb

My lady sings
Of life’s purpose
And how it’s subjective
She write her letters in cursive
She sings
Of endless opportunity
Enunciating with clarity
Hitting high notes easily
The song

My mind has gone empty
The pond has dried up
Cursed with this dry spell
There’s been a drought
Oh no
I’m praying for a rainstorm
I dance

The music sends a message
And it tells me
What I should do


I’ll go back to school and find a job
I head for the door and turn the ***
I’m lobbed