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.