Is there an end to creativity? For those of us saddled with the idea that we can create different things, notions and alternative ways, the answer has to be - never!
Can’t can I?
I can’t do it anymore,
whether I’m sitting in a chair or laid on the floor,
the muse seems to have gone I don’t know where,
I just can’t do it anywhere.
Inspiration seems to
have up and left,
now there's an empty hole
and I’m left bereft,
of a way to bare my creative muse,
I’ll not be beaten – I refuse.
Perhaps I’ve caught
some Trumpian virus,
it’s corrupted the worms in creative writing stylus,
if I could only
remove the head of the snake,
then the nightly news
would be no longer fake.
It could be attention has been deflected,
by an alternative way of being connected,
to activities more artistically chancy,
engaging the brain’s flights of fancy.
©David L
Atkinson July 2025
God Bless