Inspiration Absent
September 7th 2011 00:39
Life is a real bummer
when incentive's not switched on.
A boring repetition as
each day is here and gone.
Tomorrow will be just the same
as yesterday's mundane hours.
It seems worse in winter time
with its cold and soaking showers.
The garden is still sleeping,
it awaits the coming spring
when warmth awakens dormant plants
and inspires all sorts of things.
It's too cold to be outside in
that fresh but cutting air
and the workshop is too dusty
to toil for long in there.
The house is warm and cosy
with the fire burning bright
and the chooks are safe inside their shed
locked up for the night.
Thoughts are of another time
when youth was still in charge
and games were always being played
with young bodies fully charged.
I can't be bothered getting out
to make the wheels of life revolve
when how to keep my body warm
is a problem I must solve.
My legs don't want to move and
My feet seem full of lead,
Should I stoke the fire up?
Or simply go to bed?
My brain is not in thinking mode,
My body is always tired,
Life's in a deep and boggy hole
while inspiration's mired.
I can't write my stories;
the ones inside my head,
I think of what I could be doing;
Nah, It's time to go to bed.
It must be time I moved again
It's been three years or more,
Since we came to this old house,
That's too long, I'm sure.
I don't stay in one place for long,
I'm always moving on,
I need to scratch my itchy feet
as I walk along.
I have been living out-of-town
For about ten years or so,
it must be to time for me to be
among the friends I know.
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