Dry Spell

Withering shriveling all up inside, I cannot tell how long I'll remain in this hell of a dry spell No rainfall here, except for tears and sometimes they go dry too numb to cry, too tired to feel inspired The words crack crumble in my mouth before I get them out primal screams and shouts silenced by fear and self-doubt Soul searching something worth saving amid this gloomy mess sorting out my worst, my best while I pray for rain... ___ Yet another Shadorma poem...