Bottled Coke Shaken Upside Down

 I used to write poems. 
 Of joys and sorrows,
       of affection and remorse.
 But nowadays and frankly more frequent than often,
 I find myself accomplishing nothing
       but a blank sheet of white
       caught in the fervor of madness. 

 -- Disheartening.

 What happened to the juice-squeezing gut
       I had once yearned for?
 What pushed the drive away?
 Shall I recover? And if I do, 
      when shall it be? 


 Finally, I have spun my own web 
       of entrapment to resolve. 
 Questions upon which a hypothesis 
       is therefore concluded. 

 Times have aged and so is my limited experience. 


~kenbriz~