Wings clipped, feathers oiled
Aborted daily take-offs
Wading in treacle
Lacklustre. Can’t breathe.
Manic inactivity
Encroaching numbness
Confused, forgetful
Endless lists, tasks for the day
Sleep; insomnia
Dark introspection
Fatigue, every effort blanked
Fortified shutters
Rainbow long faded
Black and white and shades of grey
Monochrome living
Endless shivering
Blue ice pumps through veins
This polar cap never melts
Deflated, let down
Weighted to the ground; handcuffed
Every bubble bursts
No winner’s medals
Struggle to the starting line
Not at the races
Creativity
Dries up. Flourishes; small steps
Something from nothing
Callous self-hatred
Stricken senseless. Alien
Crushed by fate. Friendless
First hurdle faller
The conspiracy of life
Odds on a loser
Inevitable
Break down, break up, no breakthrough
Corralled, reined in, trapped
Frustration, anger
Crescendo of emotion
Threatens to burst forth
Regrets, lost chances
Tears of disappointment well
Lost soul, futile search.
That’s what it feels like to me.
Poppyposts 
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Hi Caroline,
Your poem describes things perfectly. But I feel that I’ve seen this before. I can’t believe I have not been here before – to comment and hit “like”. Is it possible I saw these on another blog? Do you kee a second version of PoppyPosts?
Thanks. 🙂
– Phoenix