The clock reads 12:12 am, and I'm tormented by thoughts that leave me embarrassed, taking my peaceful mind as its quarter portioned rate.
My body is heavy, as is my mind.
Burdened by lack of words, I walk the line.
To find meaning in what I cannot say,
And express my thoughts and feelings that plague me, day after day.
Poetry was my outlet, a bastion of peace.
It would allow me to express thoughts I couldn't,
But now those beautiful words are in retreat.
I struggle so hard to pluck at the cords that play with my mind and when nothing is yielded, I press restart
I search every memory, I utterly tear them apart.
I fear I have lost my passion, I fear I have lost my art.
I've not written in days
Perhaps…
I have simply lost heart?
Dec 27, 2025
Dec 27, 2025 at 12:49 AM UTC
The clock reads 12:12 am, and I'm tormented by thoughts that leave me embarrassed, taking my peaceful mind as its quarter portioned rate.
My body is heavy, as is my mind.
Burdened by lack of words, I walk the line.
To find meaning in what I cannot say,
And express my thoughts and feelings that plague me, day after day.
Poetry was my outlet, a bastion of peace.
It would allow me to express thoughts I couldn't,
But now those beautiful words are in retreat.
I struggle so hard to pluck at the cords that play with my mind and when nothing is yielded, I press restart
I search every memory, I utterly tear them apart.
I fear I have lost my passion, I fear I have lost my art.
I've not written in days
Perhaps…
I have simply lost heart?
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