Stagnant

My mind has stagnated.

I muster the dregs of motivation,

But my barrel is nearly

Scraped bare.

These slatted blinds

Akin to prison bars

In a cold, glass jail,

Where my eyes blankly

Swallow streams

Of numbers, emails, formulae.

My booted feet fidget,

My brain restless,

Seeking space and

Stimulation.

Inside me,

A caged songbird sings

A melancholy ditty

With aching wings.

How do I set myself free?

Who holds the key?

Perhaps, it is only me?

 

Emma H, age 26, 06/03/2017

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