Is there a morsel not previously bitten?
I'm spooning out the cookie jar to rechew the crumbs
That crumbled from the edges of my slippery lips
While I was stuffing too many in my running mouth
Spewing rhymes I could not swallow whole
And now there's nothing I can sink my teeth into
Nothing I haven't comprehensively penned
While no one is listening, why bother imagining more metaphors?
Writing poems for the blind whose eyes see perfectly fine
But somewhere along the line they lose their inner focus
Scrambling my words in a mixing bowl without a recipe
So now the empty bowl overflows with sugary half-baked dough
As the lonely baker prepares cookie cutter similes
I realize I've plagiarized my whole life in redundant imagery
Regurgitating the same old verse I vomited a dozen clichés ago
Reheating leftover ballads never read beyond my bedroom door
Perhaps the time has come to retire my bleeding quill
For the chasm within this heavy heart wells no healing ink
Left for the broken bard's dying muse to divergently spill

04/26/2016

Posted on 05/10/2016
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