No More Mr. Nice Rhyme


No longer a poet
With burning heart,

No longer living a muse
From finish to start.

No rhyme will ever
Complete my heart,

No outpouring of soul
Will ever find the start.

Words no longer bombard me
Their sounds rolling in my head,

An icy silence surrounds me
While I lie puzzled in my bed.



Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 592 times
Written on 2006-01-10 at 15:22

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Christian Ward
A lovely read, Esti. I think we all feel this at some point. Very meaningful.
2006-01-10


Zoya Zaidi
Nice way to describe a poets block! But is it a block? To me, Esti, if this is a block, what would the real poem be?...Mind blowing, I guess... Keep it up Esti, It is good!!!
2006-01-10


penfold18
Sounds like its working fine to me Esti I really enjoyed this:-))
2006-01-10