Adulthood (Original Poem)

What can I say

That hasn't already been said?

Is there a point to naming

All of the demons in my head?

Once poetry flew through me

Emotions given form and voice

But life can drown the sound of inspiration

Its wonderful distracting noise

Now all I do is show you fractions

Of thoughts

Of feelings

Of my soul

Each word a complex interaction

Each poem an abstract of my whole

Perhaps it's what they call adulthood

When inspiration doesn't start and end with pain

When looking back at poems born from the anguish

Only the memory of passion still remains

--

Image: Selfie.

P.S. - Still going through a massive fibro flare, so writing coherent content is not very easy at this time. So instead of in-depth articles and cool short stories, here's a cryptic poem.