Unclear Tides

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I think it’s funny

How on unforgiving nights like these

Thoughts start littering my head

 

One by one

They begin to intrude

But then I begin to notice

 

That just outside my bedroom window

Lies a world undiscovered

Spinning faster than ever

All the the tip of our finger

 

But then bring it back to my room

I find myself at a standstill

With a lack of motion

And a room full of silver linings

 

My late night speculations

bring me several places

All so distinctive from the last

 

Yet I still continue with unanswered questions

Unsatisfied

Uninterested

And stuck in the box I call reality

 

My lack of creativity

Or motivation

Or inspiration

It often troubles me

 

I feel like a book without a plot

Or a flower with no color

Or an ocean with no current

 

I’m stuck in this rut

And all I know how to do is write

 

While words flow from my head

Through this very pen

I still find myself frustrated

 

A beautiful opportunity

A beautiful moment

And a chance to create something spectacular

 

I want to create something people will remember

And something that will motivate someone

Just as much as others have motivated me

 

Yet my only barrier remains in my own head

 

But the only thing I write about is my past

Because the only thing I’m good at

Is leaving myself stuck there

 

Maybe the past is my rut

My plotless book

My colorless flower

My currentless ocean

 

I don’t want my time

To go by in a blur

While nevertheless I still feel lost

With no sign of land

 

I need someone to bring me back to reasonable ground

Because maybe I can’t do it myself

And I think that’s okay

 

Because I am treading with my head

Just above water

And I

Do not want

To drown

 

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