No More Words
When the words come to an end
The sadness begins
Nothing is much harder on me
Than a day without creativity
How long must I wait for the change to occur
A day, a week, a second in time
How come the words that I have do not rhyme
My river’s path no longer bends
Instead it is straight
Still I can’t see the end
Where the river once bent
My thought would collide
When the water is calm
It’s as though they have died
Now I hear tin where I used to hear gold
Life gets much harder as you grow old
