No thoughts,
No words,
No inspiration,
I just talk,
I refuse to see,
I never search,
I the solitude natural me,
I walk in vacation land,
Listen to no music,
No instrumentals to reel me in,
I loose myself in creativeless sands,
I love this retrogressive state,
I self degenerate my right brain cells,
No one can sense or tell.
This my writing half day,
I squint to no sun,
Shiver to no full moon breeze,
I'm intoto disarray in non literary terms,
That was how my break before this year was like.
M.O.O aka pseudo poet
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