[Objective]

"THIS"

I'm tortured with writers block,
even new ideas complain
that its brighter shots
got the contents to drain.

A mindful lightbulb hits a critical stage,
like: "what's rewiring in a digital age?"
Turn the switch for wishful thinking,
but my brain collapse to constant blinking.
Feeling the ceiling ain't holding my light,
and lamp shades lost its purpose in the middle of night.
Put a dent in liquid thoughts of something slower,
feel the power of inspiration as its flowing over.
Motivation cover most of a ghosts past,
knowing damn well bitter Scrooge's won't last.
Writing what's left till trash is severed, then spent,
THIS LINE IS A FILLER
I'm just getting rid of the top fifty percent.

Brainstorm calling the kettle black till it paddles back,
sad to say but that's a fact.
A disease in writing -
pen fighting its cataract.
This piece is what bad ideas settles on,
bitch please...
I never claimed to be the next Thomas Edison.
This pic is from
a timelapse of crumpled paper lining up my mountain pass
with poets running from its avalanche...

Yet I know the path, so I'm here for them,
"THIS" will be known as the lightbulb theorem.