Poet

Waking up, it's another day.
My mind is blank
and so is my poetry book.
I try, but they say
"You have to keep trying and push until nothing is the limit"
Illusion,
Imagination,
Realizasion of what need be done.

All the poet can do, is wait, the well will be full sooner

(I wrote this since for a while haven't been able to compose poems... and it feels lonely)