Have you been writing lately she asked?
Mostly staring blankly, pen in hand I reply
The writing prompts running through my mind
follow one after another
To the cliff edge and throw themselves into the void
Each brilliant idea dismissed with a
No that’s too
This or that
The hope of distraction from this sour mood
rapidly being shown to be wishful thinking
I began the day lost, wandering aimlessly
And time has not been a friend
Adding guilt to the sense of waste
Waste of a commodity in short supply.
The passage of time is relentless