Friday, December 16, 2016

No More

It stopped.
Was no more…
Disappeared.

I used to thread garlands
With words,
Now my hands are tied,
The garlands dead.

It left,
Went away…
Just vanished into thin air.

I used to spit pearls
And grind them together
To form shiny verses.
Now my mouth is dry.

I’m no poet,
My inspiration is gone,
My voice silenced.

I used to gather roses
To spread on the page.
Now the roses have withered,
Only the thorns are left.

It’s the end.
My lines 
Are dead.



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