Depleted.
Devoid of inspiration
And the desire to change.
Each day a dreary repeat
Of the day before.
On
and
on
and
on
Moving forward
Like empty cans
On a conveyor belt.
Moving forward,
But not really.
Stuck in place
As the world drags you along.
Nothing new
Nothing captivating
Nothing to light the spark
And reignite a passion
That burns,
Consumes,
And explodes with a force
That nothing can stop.
Not sure what inspired (or perhaps didn't inspire) this piece, but writing sans inspiration is still a worthy endeavor. Best wishes!
ReplyDeleteNo worries, I wasn't writing about me. The whole reason I keep learning is to avoid burnout. I think the ones who keep doing the same old stuff year after year are the ones who burn out. They were my inspiration!
DeleteThanks for stopping by!