Poetry flatline

 
No anguish over loss tonight -
life happens; sometimes sad, so what.
There's no parade of lingering hurts
to stoke fires of rhythmic resentment.
No awe-inspiring sight before me
to awaken spiritual rhymes.
No commentaries on my tongue
of friendship and its disappointments.
No nagging questions or angry rants
to encourage ink from my pen.
This rollercoaster has come full stop -
no up, down, forward or backward.
Just a sideways glance from outside my head
at a brain that is out of synapses.
The feelings and thoughts have all been used up,
no blips on the poetry meter.
Truth be told, after the week that has been,
the silence is downright restful.