Poetry: I Fear that I am Running Out of Steam

I fear that I am running out of steam
The fear of disappointing doesn’t seem
So near or hard, dissolving like a dream
Motivation drying up like a stream

But should I put my pen down for now
Will I return to writing, as I vow?
Will I forget to do what I want and how,
Or will I find the spirit to continue on my brow?

At the moment, I have no answer to give
My heart is stuttering, so please forgive
I still need a meaning for which to live
So I will continue for now, deliberative.

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Poetry: The Day I Fell

Let me tell you of the day I fell
When I felt myself become quite ill
I had trapped me in a box like hell
By nothing more than lack of will
Locked up for eight hours and told to sell
Stand here and work the till
I stood still, not feeling well
Like I was living on nothing but swill
Something rang in my head, a death knell
And then I could no longer stand up still
Let me tell you of the day I fell
When I felt myself become quite ill.