Fog

My thoughts are locked

Completely blocked

Don’t seem to know

My words anymore

I’m stuck in limbo

Ideas revolving

Dissolving in

A murky, thick fog

I can’t make out

Nor shape or form

The flow has gone

I know not where

I’m going to drink

My favourite tipple

Would it work magic?

I doubt it

But at least 

I will feel sleepy

Published by MarbellysB

Living life with Stage IV incurable Neuroendocrine cancer. A widow at the age of 43, I often don't feel grown up or wise enough to bring up my three children. I think we are growing up together. I run for fun, fitness and fundraising.

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