November 16, 2009

• I Hate

  I hate my elementary poetry,
  With clichés and overused phrases.
  I hate my plain way of speaking,
  With no pretty words.

  I hate how I can’t write anymore,
  How my fingers no longer fly across the keyboard.
  I hate how I’m a ghost now,
  Of who I once was.

  I hate how I sit thinking,
  ‘What the fuck am I supposed to write?’
  I hate how I don’t see inspiration,
  In this world full of muses.

  I hate how my vision is lost,
  I can’t find it.
  I hate how my fingers are still now,
  My brain fried.

  I hate how it makes me want to cry.

  • 9:32 pm
  • 14 Comments