Behind The Eyes - Poem by Matthew Foor
It is its own type of torture
The loss of words I suffer from
Inspired but unable to express it
Pen fueled and ready to make its mark
To make its move
Across this lonely sheet of paper
But nihilism is all i get
Non-existence of well rhymed phrasing
In need of poetic nourishment
But nothingness wins me over
And insubstantial meaning
All come together to form a vacuum
Imbiding all that could be out of what isnt
Suffering from that unholy word
For to poets like I,
Its like kryptonite to our livelyhood
Trying to be submissive to my own imagination
To be subordinate to my minds eye
To be acquiescent to what lies behind these eyes
Difficulty turns to uselessness
What is it im doing here?
Without even knowing it...
Those words and euphemisms
They snuck up on me!
Its a f*&^ing poem!
Convincing me that 'writers block' is all in the head
All up there
Behind the eyes.
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