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Here I sit, Trapped in the doldrums Of a sightless sea. No wind blows the sails In my dormant mind, And my pen can spew no ink, For no thaughts come forth To carry it. Beautiful faces Cry for words and tears, But are unanswered, For in my head no muse can stir. I feel wretched here. No words can I weep to page, For my tears are spent On trivial matters.
0
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC
Parched of Muse
Here I sit, Trapped in the doldrums Of a sightless sea. No wind blows the sails In my dormant mind, And my pen can spew no ink, For no thaughts come forth To carry it. Beautiful faces Cry for words and tears, But are unanswered, For in my head no muse can stir. I feel wretched here. No words can I weep to page, For my tears are spent On trivial matters.
Written by
Scottish
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC
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