A Torrid World

I'm tired of this nothingness
This structure and this cage
So tired of a schedule
That guarantees old age
I can't break out of patterns
Or teach old dogs new tricks
I cannot live and cannot die
Although I know I'm sick
I yearn to be creative
I yearn to be ignored
I give birth to my ideas
But my children are abhorred
I feel empty while I overflow
Feel old and yet I'm young
Ioften wish to start again
But often wish for 'done'
My talents have diminished
While I was hanging by a thread
I start a thousand projects
And they erode my head
Because I never sleep
I can never dream
And I'm trapped in this torrid world
Where nothing's as it seems