This Witching Hour


This witching hour
beguiles my mind.
A mind already spent.
Drained of its creativity;
so fogged over
by the haze of winter.
Thoughts running rampant
weaving aimlessly
through the maze.
Filled with
useless
meaningless drivel.
Reminiscent of
days gone past
I’d rather soon forget
Life
in this instance
seems like a record
spinning round
and round
And then…
it skips
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