Right now, I am just sitting here
Feeling uninspired, wondering why
Instinctually reaching my hand into a bag of chips
Salivating, eating one right after another
Occasionally looking to see how many are left
Soon they will be gone just like my creativity
Lingering, tasty, gone
My thoughts moved on
to a gold fish, fast and shiny
Circling the fragile globe of glass
Every turn the same and yet new like a penny
Every thought the same and yet …
Caught in the cycle of this doldrums fret
I know there is something I forgot to get
Sensitivity, close connection with the words. Until a bag of chips turns poem. Lindo.
'You forgot your glass of water! Nice write, Marcus! Your creative juices were flowing with this one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Would you believe, I am a Grammar Professor and I still had to look up the word ‘Instinctually’ and, low and behold, it is a word and it is spelled correctly. Cute poem. Read mine - A Writers Dilemma – Adeline