Demise of a poem

I have thought of death many times, experienced it in my incomplete rhymes

I've heard it in meter's missing heartbeat, felt it when a stanza was incomplete

My muse a cold mortician, left my corpse deaf and dumb creativity gone numb

Watered with tears poems unread, cried for lost lines of meaning shed

Somewhere under rubble of words I've buried, poetic babies miscarried 

Reviews

[Buddhistboy73]

Ah yes indeed Soren....

The writers block that we all experience..:)

I liked this piece as it reminds me of one of my old poems where I was going through a similar experience.....

Good luck my WC friend...and remember ..."this too shall pass"

BB73

[Vol]

Soren,
Sometimes the muse falls asleep, sometimes she's in a coma...
Vol

[Soren]

Thanks so much Vol for the read and kind words of support they are appreciated

[Tadicus]

I do love the wording and the way you write, but I just don’t get the hyperbole.
(I’m also not the best with poems😅)

[Soren]

Thank you for reading and your most hones response. Metaphors are something I use all the time and here I see poems as the poet's babies. Some miscarry some are born with defects and incomplete. I mourn for these.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

very clever creation of metaphor here, Soren.
My kind of poem.
j.

[poetic swan]

Haunting and powerful. You capture the pain of creative loss with striking imagery—"my muse a cold mortician" is unforgettable. The poem feels like mourning for unwritten verses, making it deeply relatable and emotionally rich.

[Soren]

Thanks so much I deeply appreciate your read and interpretation.