Encased in my own world
But not yet insulated
Hammered; Exposed
Not interested perhaps
No ideas come forth
For my comfort; Or
To help me get through
A storm rages
Right on the throes
The feeling comes through
Not at all pleasant
Still no idea;Or
Action initiated
I lie there
Just there;No reason
The wait continues.
what doesnt rhyme aint a poem...
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