It seems as though words escape me these past few days, I dont know where they've gone, are they done with me for now?

My energy is spent, it feels like nothing is left to spin, the top has stopped, the clock still tic tocks on, where have the words now all gone?

Are they done with me, those words freely rolling so fleetingly from my fingers, who took them and spit them out for all to see, those splintered and sometimes splattered words of prose upon the tablets light, some times dark but at times so bold!

Have I spent what was there and not now the soul to hold no more. Is that all there was, and nothing more?

There must be others there to let,  to share, to see, to hear the expressive cries or meandering wonderings to bethink!

Surely there is more to come, this cant be all there is and nothing more!

Well maybe that is so, and I do wonder why it must be so...if there is no more to be told?                                                                                  

 T. Condon (rev. 5/03)