O Nightly Thoughts

[tmanzano]

The frustrated muse. An equal parallel to the plight of a seasonal stale mate with thoughts to paper. The faded shirt, the ghostly stain, a humidly costal foreboding write. I have read this over more than three times and have been bothered to read it again. Mostly because of my relation to the poem. I think I will go to France, almost.

I enjoyed the read, and can surmise no critical help to your piece other than I understand.