Blank Poem by Philip Mutuku

Trying to think, I hit a dead end,
an emptiness I'm yet to comprehend,
I lack morale and mood,
I'm sure not feeling good.
I have no feeling for anything,
a complete lack of passion,
I seem not to realize a thing,
not even an admirer with dripping compassion
for me and my state.
Is their a worse fate?

I reach into my pocket,
for any money available,
only to feel its empty bottom.
Unbelievable.

A sound in my stomach,
a sign of hunger,
I sigh in despair,
wishing I was a baby; younger.

I reach for a plank,
and I brake it,
the fact is I am blank,
and I just cant take it.