When it seems you’ve written all the poetry in your mind
What is left over?
What’s to climb?
You scratch your head
Moan and dither
No strength left to articulate ‘come hither’
You want to word this pretentious junk
To blunder, to wonder, to slam dunk
You want the world at your feet
Marvelling at your genius
When your hurt and pain pushes everyone away
And yet you wonder ‘how did it get this way?’
Too cold to touch
Too depressed to dream
Life is rank, dirty, unclean
You want it all
Standing there forthright, young and tall
The words ‘I want’ stretch and flutter consuming your mind
Until it’s so fed up with egotistical thoughts you become unkind
You want the world
Paradoxically it doesn’t want you
And so you reach the day upon which you rue
That your supposed talent festers and dies
And no one near you
Not in the whole universe
Hears your cries
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