I’ve lost my rhyme.
The poetry doesn’t flow from my thoughts anymore.
I don’t know why.
I’ve lost my whistle.
There’s only silence from my lips these days.
I don’t know why.
I’ve lost my hum.
No songs are playing in the background my mind…
I don’t know why.
.
When Stella lost her mojo,
the colours turned to gray.
She roamed the streets of Limbo,
she forgot to laugh and play.
Her shed became a hidey hole,
her projects gathered dust.
In that smoke filled room,
Stella sat with her gloom,
and picked holes in herself with disgust.
Thank you for the first line M8M8. Xx
.
Puffing the day away.
Songs out of tune.
Head in the clouds.
A high afternoon.
Dance around solo.
Skip to no beat.
Wasting the moment.
Smoking a treat.
.
Red wine
is my friend
I come out of my shell.
Relaxation and smiles
and laughter as well.
It helps my grief thaw,
and my heart see the light,
it lifts the weight from my soul
at least for tonight….
belonging no where
trusting no one
believing no thing
hoping no way
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Black sand falling through the hourglass.
Minutes passing by. 
Years.
How does one carry on
with broken shards in place of a heartbeat?
Every breath cutting deep
with the knowledge that you are gone.
Forever.
Such a painful word.
A bottomless void.
Eternal teardrops
measuring the depth of my love.
How can you blame me
for numbing this pain?
This death in my soul?
Black sand marks the passage of time without you.
