NPM Day 4 Under The Influence
I've been having a hard time stirring up inspiration for new poetry. I find that I really only write poetry when I'm in some form of emotional distress. Go figure.
Sitting down as the world spins round,
the sky dims and the cold creeps in.
Music's up loud tuning out all other sound
and you're words start to replay in my head.
The words that should've been left unsaid.
The pulse from the beat runs through my seat,
I close my eyes in utter defeat.
You had my world in the palm of your hands,
now it slips through like strands of sand.
That's when I realized, life is just an hourglass.