I haven't written a poem
In a solid five months
I haven't sat down
to hear verses in my head
or feel a pen glide
across a piece of paper

My heart has been altered
My journey has been changed
The path not taken
Is the path that I am on

Intuition keeps me
From taking the wrong turn
When there's a fork in the road
Asking me to decide which path to take

Why have I not been able to write?
Sit down and write in the summer heat...
School, my job, my future
Tugging at my back reminding me
to be practical

Writing is creativity
Like the wine of Italy
Or the sand of the beach
It lives in me, waiting 'til I return

It may wonder where I've been
But it never doubts that I'll return