No Longer can I envision
my life like scenes of reality television
I can't make plans
only one day at a time I understand
I don't want to look further than my writing small hands
I can't imagine
my creativity is in the dust bin
I can't dream
I've run out of steam
I can't think
water of time is running down the sink
I can't ponder
I've lost my childish tenacity to wonder
I can't meditate
illusion of drugs won't medicate
I'm having a writer's block
no longer am I working by the clock
whole my mind is locked
coming down to this fact is a shock
an outdated doc
that doesn't have a script
just blank white pages already ripped
it's like all my memory has skipped
got no more words on my tongue tip
I seek inspiration from Gladys Knight and the Pips
if they could bring some hop to my hip
and dry muted lips
But sometimes I don't feel like writing
because it doesn't make a living
I need a monetary thing