Creativity drains out of me
as "education" takes its place.
New information is pushed
and pushed and crammed
into every last corner of my mind.
So where will I find
the time to rest
or to think
or feel
or, quite frankly,
do anything but deal with the
heaps of papers
the towers of books
towering over me.
I once was lost in an ocean
of words
a sea of creativity-
I am now trapped in a cage
and I am not allowed to engage
with the ones outside
or my fears staring back at me from
the other side of the bars.
What is this,
this life,
what is it really?
I ask myself resentfully
for it is a question
that I wish not to answer honestly.
Honestly?
What is wrong with me?
Why do I ramble on
like a crazy person
trying to write all that I can
in any form that I can?
I am a bird caught in a snare.
I am a fish in a pool of thought.
I am a body drained of blood.
A mouth muted.
A young mind polluted
Image: http://weheartit.com/entry/297695309?context_page=6&context_query=cage&context_type=search
