The cracks of slothfulness

I am starting to break again, 

for I do not have the inspiration.

They say I broke the mold, 

but I can feel myself begin to fold.

I need to express with my art, 

for if I don't it breaks my heart.

It is to you that I confide, 

this emptiness I feel inside.

around me I did them out, 

for this frog that is in my throat.

The future can seem awfully dim, 

if I do not learn how to swim.

to get myself out of this clay, 

cannot waste another day.

For in the mud I am the stick, 

and I have become quite lethargic. 

For the moat is filled with my tears, 

lack of productivity are my fears.

With this weight upon my chest, 

I swear I will do my best!

I will get out of the heat, 

and pull myself to my feet.

To push lazy ness to the side, 

and live the ambitions in my mind. 

For although my forward step has began to sour, 

to continue movement, only I have the power.