Stardust

I am afraid.

The art seems to have left me
I'm trapped in this bland land
of free verse poetry.

Trapped, making lame little lines like these.
Lacking the creativity to make
something truly amazing.
Or even the
slightest bit
interesting.

Guess this is it
Guess I'll just quit
calling myself
a so-so poet

Though, I'm still angry
but the anger is no longer hot enough
to sear little letters
onto this paper here

Though, I'm still sad
my sorrow ceased
to flow and freeze into words
now with
nowhere
to go

I have no reason for
holding this pen.
I'm only afraid to put it down.

Swan song seems so very appropriate.
Instead, I'll call it Stardust.