My Rough Little Poem

Stale and stagnant,
My life has been,
With no creative outlet.

Dead and lifeless,
My thoughts have slowed,
Nothing to think about it.

I'm lost in the blur,
The days die by,
Each one lost at the end.

Each moment has gone,
Away in the wind,
No hope to breathe again.

I long for the days,
When creativity reigned,
Blessed were my words and rhymes.

It's been so long,
How can I know,
If my "gifting" has survived?

So I'll stir up the mind,
Bring my thoughts into line,
And force out this little poem.

I hope you'll look past,
The rough way it flows,
Please forgive the one who wrote it.

My passion has dulled,
Though my heart is awake,
My mind is consumed with life.

Breaking into my head,
There's much to be said,
I can't believe I stopped.

I've missed the way,
My words like to play,
In a way I can't control.

My patterns are crazy,
And never match up,
But these words are, yes, my own.

Judge if you want,
And read if you dare,
This product of my mind.

You'll see that I'm rusty,
Full of cobwebs and dusty,
But I'm honest, at least I think.

I hope you enjoyed,
This trip of new life,
I'm coming back from the brink.

(It's very rough. But sometimes I don't like to edit my raw thoughts. This is one of those times. Forgive?)