Hackneyed

How can poem writing be that hard?

Heh, you mustn't write poems.

Or have you now?

I call myself 'a hackneyed loser'

Everything I do is boring

Same old, same old

Boring.

Same old, same old.

Boring.

Why do I write poems?

Could it be a form of entertainment?

Or maybe a service?

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

But these are too dull

I can't do anything

Every poem I write

Is a different shade of gray

You know what I'm saying?

Theres nothing that stands out.

Aren't they just all about helping?

So what's the point of this poetry?

I said I don't know.

I'm sick and tired of you yelling at me

Why do I keep writing

When there's nothing new

It's all dull

Boring

I hate it

I do it

I hate it

I do it

I hate it

Can't I stop this cycle?

Maybe...

But it won't be for a while,

I'd assume.

Shut up!

That stupid voice is back again

Ruining my thinking time within my head

Yeah, woods was great and all

But what was even the point of everything followed!?

I don't know

My brain is hackneyed, don't you see?

I feel nothing

Nothing is working

Why do I try?

I dont know...

I thought for a second I could save someone's life?

I dont see a point

but I'll keep trying

but I'm just becoming more dull

a dark, boring, dull, faded, gray.