Poetry

Doldrums (#1879)

For a month, the words were still,
Even though there were pages to fill,
It happened not because of choice,
More so that I lost my creative voice,
While hard to believe I had nothing to say,
The days were more or less on replay,
Work, family time and then sleep,
In that cadence I was anchored deep,
The daily routine left me feeling numb,
The very definition of being humdrum,

Any Thoughts?

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