Zzzzz-brain sap

The lines crumbled off the page as I wrote them. Fragmented and feeble as any I could pen. “What happened to my brain, I am not the same.” A sound echos in my empty mind of a forgotten game. I heard the rhythmic bouncing of a ball Da do da do as it hits a floor or wall. In my head it’s all in my my head. And to my dread my poetic side is dead.

A thought, a pause, a line for time; And I struggling to write and rhyme. Wondering who or what I am Or if I even give damn Am I poet if I no longer hear my muse?