Life is at a standstill, deficient, unable to handle <br />daily routines with any energy whatsoever. <br /> <br />Racking emotions with heart-rending dissatisfaction, <br />causing spiritual draining of my being. <br /> <br />Unaccosted, afraid, yet looking for solitary openings <br />to become myself without the horrendous pain. <br /> <br />Sanctioning undeveloped patterns, watching them wander <br />aimlessly until I pick them up. <br /> <br />Placing their forms within imagination's storehouse to <br />be used on some other plain of literature.<br /><br />RoseAnn V. Shawiak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/standstill-7/
