Well, that's always nice to know: even when my mind is in a fog the poetry can be clear as day. Lol. Of course, so much angst could only have one source, so it's not hard to pinpoint...lol.

How do I manage to pass the days
not writing anything down?
It's like every time I think of something
there's something to keep it at bay
be it music, or parents, or, worst of all,
lack of motivation to foil my plans
or perhaps I've been overwhelmed
bombarded by my thoughts
which happens far too often
to be true.
I'll get overwhelmed,
surrender and go to sleep
ideals running through my head
coursing through my very veins
my blood is faught with inspiration
only to fall very short
you see, poetry is not
my medium
it's the only thing I've been
capable of lately
and poorly done, at that
I've just been so disracted
from the murder that is life
and yet have not found the
quiet to let my mind go
full astray
full away
oh dear I'm really a mess now
so it seems I should take my leave




Something I found on this little board that I was using to write on. A bit mundane, really don't know when or why I wrote it but it's quite intriguing...:

Bleeding water that is red
I'm falling down inside my head
I just don't know
what's happening
in the world outside lately


it really hits a nerve and it'd be nice if I could elaborate on it.