He can’t think
Nothing springs to mind
Dried up inside his head
A dead-end he does find
Will nothing come
No ideas and images?
Or will he be
Left with these glitches?
Just like his life
A dead-end reached
No matter how much
He cries and did beseech
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Posted in: Poetry
withheldindarkness
August 23, 2012
Great flow to this poem. Thanks for the read.
Darren Greenidge
August 23, 2012
Thank you again and no problems. It’s what I’m here for! 🙂