The Writers Angst Poem by Jeremy Patnou

The noise is deafening
People milling around like bees
Over their honeycomb
City expansion
Rushing cars going by
Screams of siren afar
The clamor has become like a drone
Never gone
Always there.
to shut down the noise
I capture my own
The music is my antigen
The music is what makes sense
Turn it up
Tune them out
The writers’ angst
To be caught in a repressive space
Needing to find someplace
to Bloom,
some room to move
The writers’ angst
To know nothing he will ever find
Can match the world inside his mind.
How long will it take before he can find
The place where he really belongs.