I am not lazy,
I am uninspired;
it feels like
all tanks are on empty.
The Mind,
once a grand and bustling
warehouse of activity -
crafting poems and love songs
at fevered pace
and rushed in special delivery
while trying to keep up
with the demand -
is quiet now
as The Heart lays still
waiting for the next customer.
Poets
it seems
are not afraid
to bleed in public,
but I fear the market for it
may have dried up.
The End.
Ken Owen Van Niddy Press April 2014
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