Sometimes love forces us to create.
Other moments in love, we're obliged to live.
How much can you rely on fate?
Who does that leave you with?

I used to find my mind was a star
shooting poetic verse
at speeds that led it afar,
across the entire universe.

Today, I am uninspired to write a poem
What even is poetry
without love, I'm questioning why I'm

not as inspired as I used to be.
Now it's one, it used to be some.
Love is blind and now, I cannot see.