a revision of "Poetic Frustration"

The Blue Lit Walk

Foolish light falls,
from the bed,
out the window,
and onto the dirt.

Run fast, down two flights.
Do not look at them and they will not see you.
I cannot be caught by the humping monkeys.
Hurry back to the top bunk.
Not a good place to write but it’ll do.
Doesn’t take long for the excitement to wear off.

Doubts cloud my thoughts, and
Outside it begins to rain.
If only it could wash the apprehensions
from the gutters of my mind.
Thunder slaps its arc across the sky.
If only it could jumpstart the words
That I do not have.

Enough what-if’s already,
it’s time to put a pen to use.
At the very least I’ll know
whether there is anything
to put on the page.

(this is a strory of one crazy night trying to simply write my heart onto a page.)