How are you?

I'm not ok.

I want to write and have a million poems
to be prolific is the goal.
But, I lack inspiration to grab a pen
and sit down to write in my journal

I came to a conclusion; to be worthy of my time
my words would need meaning and soul
on how I was wrong and misguided in thought
but, it's ok for now I know.

Or how I remember why I compose at all
What attraction brings me back?
It is to read my own thoughts and memories I wrote
to help more daytime pass

Good or bad, short or long.. I am entertained
my efforts are lost in the process as creation begins an unending chain
that starts and continues everlasting in the boundary of my brain

Death is on it's way, it's coming for me
Unsure may I be of the length of it's journey
Train A leaves the station moving through time and space
Train B catching up at a lifetime's pace
Bound to meet somewhere ahead on the track
At the very moment when earthly life has passed
Into the tunnel shaded in black
Never to return, never even look back

Bippidy boppidy hizidy who
I looked down at my untied shoe
I though to myself, well what are you going to do?
Bippidy boppidy hizidy who

Clippidy clappidy tinsity tam
I just shrugged my shoulders and raised my hands
Bamboozled at the predicament I's in
Clippidy clappidy tinsity tam

Bippidy boppidy hizidy hide
I had to stop and lose my stride
Not to mention the loss of all that time
Bippidy boppidy hizidy hide