I don’t know how much more I can take this

I’ve been a poet for five years or more and

I haven’t accomplished anything

My words are becoming less potent

My concoctions aren’t as strong

The audience is becoming immune to my potions

My time with it is almost over

My dreams’ eyes are closing

My mind is morphing

Like a power ranger but there is no restoring

What I have broken

It’s deleted burned up and toasted

My pen is roasted

I looked up last night and before

I could even know it

I realized I wasted my time

I knew I’d blow it

But tried not to show it

I forced all of my flows and…

It stops here in time

It frozen….

Five years ago I was letting loose

And having a ball

Ripping my bics off the handles

Til I didn’t accept calls

In my own little world

Surround by my thoughts

Until a recent shift

Doubt crept in and life hit me hard

Now it’s dark I miss the mark often

X marked the spot but I ask “y”

Did I hit z while my emotions scream out ‘ugh’

My own diction is hindering me

So hard I go soft

I’ve invested thousands of hours and time

But is it worth the cost

And I am stressing for help.. why?

I should be admired!

I’ve built an empire!

A website! An app! I should be excited!

But I feel like S%&* sorry for captions

I knew that’s bad but I actually

Trying to fathom what’s happening

To my little world

I think it’s finally unfurled

I pushed while I was pushing

And it was took…

To a limit worth pushing

But now it’s over

And here is the conclusion

You’re baring witness to the drop of my bic

I’m walking away

From the desk

I’ve done my best

But it got me nowhere

Man I swear…

Can’t win for losing…

I lost it.

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