Finding myself tired and uninspired
at least the bed left me today.
I did my laundry
what more do you want from me
I can't think of much else
in this haze.
Sometimes,
the passions stop.
I no longer see the sputtering
of yellow lines down
a highway
as something I could recreate
into a beautiful composition.
The sky is only grey
and no longer the keeper of
nostalgic malaise.
My feet only move me
when bothered for the trouble
and howl and moan
every mile of road
they encounter.
I don't have a real position on
the matter
when my thoughts scatter
and I'm left with hollow eyes
and a succulent consciousness
gone dry.
I don't have a snarky reply
just another useless day
I unwillingly offer up
to the unforgiving clock
and a loss of sentiment.
C.e.m.
3.10.15