Poetry

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My mind is all aflutter,
I find it difficult to write,
To break upon the barrier
That makes my life contrite.
Whilst wallowing in self-pity
Nothing will come to mind
My spirit feels forlorn
I feel I’m left behind.

It’s difficult to use a gift
When your mind is not that clear
It concentrates on things of past
And is filled with hopeless fear
I want to break free from the bondage
That holds my mind so numb
And so I sit here, pen in hand
To wait for thoughts to come.

But wait, have not I
Just broken through that wall?
The one that held me back
And brought about my fall?
Is it possible it was just a door
Upon which I had to knock?
And now that the door has opened
I won’t suffer Writer’s Block.

© Kathie Thomas September, 1988

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