Maybe I am stuck
because I am waiting to be moved.
Maybe I can move
somebody who feels stuck.  

I loop the songs I love
until I choke them of all emotion.
I stumble through words
from a million brilliant minds
searching for madness akin to mine.

Pictures, stories, art,
opinions, musings, crafts –  
I gnaw at everything for hidden meaning.

Am I even human if nothing moves me?
Do I deserve death if I never learned to live?

Spur my soul, stir my heart
you, who knows exactly what I mean.
Or hark my bemoaning  
as the graceless floundering
of unmoored ennui.