SiLeNt StRuGgLe

 

For the first time in forever,

self-expression

is a struggle,

blocked by my mind.

 

Many truths need to be spoken.

I move my mouth

but hear no noise.

I’ve lost my voice.

 

Ev’ry word I want escapes me.

I can’t focus,

brain feels foggy.

Where is my muse?

 

Without words, I’m left with nothing.

They’re the one thing

I understand.

Worthless, I weep.

 

(A traditional minute poem is made up of 60 syllables divided between three stanzas. The four lines of each stanza will have a syllabic count of 8/4/4/4. Typically, these poems are written in strict iambic meter and follow a rhyme scheme of aabb, ccdd, eeff. This version, the nontraditional, eliminates the tough stuff like meter and scheme and works well whether you’re exhausted, like me, or just lazy — also like me!)