Writing will set you fee
They say
How can it
When my mind sits in prison
Discontent and disconsolate
Isolated, drained and empty
Someone come save me
I've lost my sense of touch
My Words do not belong to talent
Wasted, what wasted time
It's so obvious
Uninspired, I'm so tired
Strangled by the sterile fingers of failure
The monster under my bed stole my creativity
The light in my head blinking red viciously
Shut down, I shut down
To the inspiration that no longer comes around.








 
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