Broken are the words of this poem,
Tired are the eyes that behold these rhymes.
Broken are the thoughts attached to them,
Tired are the challenges I need to climb.

No light of inspiration shines down
On these little lines I seek to write.
Will they turn my powerless phrases around?
Will they inspire the mind that reads them tonight?

This river has become endlessly dry,
No nourishing water flows down its track.
Will I just become an earth, a dust, and die
Without changing the world; this power, I lack!