I'll make it myself.
My pen scribbles furiously
Lack of inspiration seldom spawns it
Creativity
The swipe of ink against paper
Adrenaline, my body craves
The rush of making something new
Pulls
Deep longing
Where passion once resided
My canvas is still empty
Of course it is
I bang my head on my desk
Is this worth it?
Now read from the bottom up.
YOU ARE READING
My mediocre poetry
PoetryI'm no poet, but I write sometimes so here's that. I'm sorry for anyone who reads this crap.
