I think
There is a monster that eats at my thoughts
My mind
These words are describing my poor imagination
When I search my mind for the
Slightest bit
Of creativity
It comes up
Blank
I enter my boring blank mind:
Random thoughts
Bounce off my white cushioned walls
Of my imagination
I think
There is a monster that eats at my thoughts
My mind
The walls are my limits
Of my body and soul
It traps me like a mental
Patient
Tied up and
Trapped in a
Cushioned white room
When I strain my ears to hear any artistic ideas
I find soothing elevator music
Coming softly
Through the walls
I sigh mentally
It gave me no answer
No clue.
I think
There is a monster that eats at my thoughts
My mind
Useless thoughts
Ricochet
Here
And there
I strain my eyes to see
An image of creativity
All I see is never ending white
I think
There is a monster that eats at my thoughts
My mind
As infinite as space
Then again, we don’t know
If space
Have limits like my imagination
I’m trapped in my own walls
For ever
And ever
I think
There is a monster that eats at my thoughts
My mind…