There are times
when I feel neglected
by words and rhymes
that often define me.
I have this perrenial need
to be alone
and be with whatever
I can write about.
They keep me company
they make me feel
understood and accepted.
And when I can't find anything
not a syllable to
start my lines,
I grope and seek desperately
not wanting to be alone.
My own thoughts
keep me company
on the occasions
when I'd rather be misunderstood
than prove myself right.
And right now, I am alone.
It's happening again
as it's happened
many times before.
I am deserted,
void of eloquence,
drained of blood
that drips me ink...
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