I can’t write right now
And somehow I know that this poem is,
Pointless

Too many are like myself,
And any words I say are
Senseless

My writing ranges cliché to ambiguous,
And my life will remain anonymously,
Timeless

Senseless, pointless, and timeless
Is my greatest enemy,
And dearest friend

Driving me and killing me,
Teasing me and tempting me,
Negative and positive

I try to appease my need for it,
And give up only to relive my addiction to it

All fruitless effort
And hopeless attempts
All for
Progress

 
Copyright © lastpoetstanding, All Rights Reserved