A poem, three months long

It was 3 months ago.

The New Year was celebrated.

Everyone was rejoicing.

Everyone was happy.

Everyone was cheerful.

I was a little scared.

Frightened and worried.

Slowly people stopped writing.

There were no more different ideas.

They weren't there to write about themselves.

About life, about children.

I also stopped for a while.

I stopped because I couldn't either.

The inspiration hid somewhere.

Between me and something unknown.

I stopped and started to sum up.

Impressions and days.

I counted them until two days ago.

I don't count anymore.

Because we are all here again.

We are all writing again.

Author: Musician

Thanks a lot for reading.

Lead image source: unsplash.com