the juice stopped flowing
and the rose, smothered by thorns
was it the heat
of prolonged summers β
an unending drought
that wasted our springs?
famished dreams die
left unnursed by Reality
the juice stopped flowing
many yesterdays ago
and even while we played
the future remained an unreadable face
Though the juice, the creative juice may have ceased flowing in the now…temporarily, as inspiration hits, in another time not too far off; there’d be a flood…. an overflow, that’d seek to overwhelm and even drown when one least expects! Just wait for it! Though it tarries, it’d come at the right time and season! You’ll see!ππ
I absolutely love the use of imageries in describing what I sense to be writer’s block Zee gurl! This is sheer brill….as always! πβ€
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Thank you ma sis. Your words are very encouraging.
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