P:407
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Demerit

P:407


Empty and blank,
The sheet stares back

Notes, pages, piles, reams
Coffee stains, broken pencils, ruined dreams

Convoluted metaphors strewn crumpled on the floor
Vacant words on vacant pages, pent-up feelings trapped in cages

Pretty words so meaningless
Thoughts void of intelligence
Nonsense, sentence
Creativity to death

Mediocrity is all i've left

Lack of inspiration, the noose around my muse's neck
It keeps me from going under
The noose around my muse's neck

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