Addle
I bite my dry lower lip,
As I sit down with my back against the cold wall,
both hands clasp behind my head,
Looking through the stained window.
It feels like one of those days,
I can’t seem to come-up,
with something most intriguing.
Unfortunately, nothing as of yet.
But then a brief light flashes,
and disappear,
in my mind, as
I grab my black pen and a notepad,
next to my bed,
ready to get started,
and then I stop,
Inner thoughts don’t seem to,
Motivate me to write today.
Its already late in the afternoon,
And the Sun turns red on the horizon,
the streaks of setting sun,
streams lace like patterns,
on the wooden floor.
I start for the main door, and
walk downstairs ,
to put my worn out sneakers on.
Maybe I’ll come up with,
something later,
when I return.