I Cannot Write Today Poem by Jeff Wrubel
I Cannot Write Today
Paralysis of the brain
Cortex to spine
Limbs hung like vine
An empty page
Paralysis of the heart
The blood is pooled
Veins dry and cool
Pen useless as a dart
Truth in a mouth of lies
Can't drink the wine
Not blood but turpentine
This is only an exercise
A blind hitchhiker prays
Out of gas on the highway
With the car in the driveway
For I cannot write today
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 12:21:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
