#inspirationless

I'm a poet, and not a bad one either

yet here I sit "inspirationless for a day"

that's such a dumb thing to say

I had you over not too long ago

and through my mind your greatness often flows

crashing like a great title wave

washing over every little inch of my brain

so to say I have nothing to say is a lie

your so beautiful I'm surprised I haven't died

from heat exhaustion by being neer you

you shine so bright the sun must get jealous with you in her view

or perhaps you turn her lesbian

I wouldn't doubt it you adorable little thespian

because I'm gay for you too

when I don't know what to write you're my muse

signed: yours truly

even if this poem is a bit unruly

((INSPIRATIONLESS))

Sometimes I sit down and I try to write but nothing feels right, I’m just waiting for that bright flash of light in my mind, like a ray of inspiration shining straight from heaven but I’m not trying to be whining, I just wanna be signing my name on some writing I did, but fuck it I’m resigning, because I need to be designing this shit on my own time, I need to start defining my life, I can’t have my own goddamn mind denying me when I see something inspiring and I wanna be firing off a few verses But I can’t if it’s always me versus my head, versus my mind, but I gotta keep a shoulder to the plow, gotta stay on my grind, gotta keep working now, but I don’t know how to get out of this hole full of doubt, I don’t even know where I’d be without it Would I be able to spout out sixteen bars with a catchy hook? Would I become a big fucken star if I did things by the book? But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself Maybe I just need to stop being so upset with myself I just need to stop having regrets about things left unsaid and just look ahead, where am I being led to? Maybe I’m supposed to work an office job, nine-to-five until I’m dead But I’m alive right now and I’m just gonna try to spread these verses instead of living with no purpose and being a worthless service that a company can purchase And even though everybody urges me to follow the system, that’s a symptom that they’re already victims, I’ve gotta escape that fate before I become part of that same mind numbing, unloving throat cutting, untrusting, barely functioning, highly troubling, bloodsucking, soul crushing lifestyle But meanwhile, before I try to exile my profile from they’re everlasting stockpile, I need to fucking write something, my mind is buzzing, but nothing is coming up, so I’m just humming now, hoping something comes out before i start succumbing to the mind numbing nothingness, and I’m getting suspicious and starting to doubt my ability to spit the illest shit, but then I start to spout it out and get all proud, and if I start to draw a crowd even better, but that’s not why I do this I do this to take away the shroud from my mind and to end my mental drought, and it looks like I got it now, so I might as well take a bow, and make a vow to always allow myself to be real, like I’ve just done now