mindless

My tongue has shriveled up.

I've forgotten what to say.

My mind is now blank

Yet, I am not free?

There is no solution; 

It has been my fallacy -

Supposing my grasp was near

Am I not free?

Have I run out of things to say?

My observations seems to be drawing a blank. I've not put pen to paper since Sunday. Is this the end of me? I am finding In Our Time banal too.

A pigeon makes it's usual noise. A clock ticks it's usual seconds, chopping off my seconds.