Poems

 I shut down
A month gone by
I hardly noticed
Then I came back
And all of the writers were writing
Still
The dark gothics
The sensualists
Whacked out tweakers
Obsurists
And the brilliant
It all went on
It all seems the same
But somehow I feel different
Tempered
Or perhaps I just have
A different
Perspective
But the words still taste like they used to
There's a pride in creation
Sometime walking away
Is the best thing to do
It enables the return