A Writer

A collection I might add on to over time.
Random stuff.

They said I was a writer.

They said my words were made of magic,
And that I could weave new worlds just with the power of my pen
They said I was a gem, a fallen star from heaven.

Right now, I feel like
The candy wrapper by my bedside, crumpled and thrown away
Of no use to anyone.

Yes, they said I was a writer.

And they told me to write it out,
To let my feelings flow
I'm sorry, but my feelings
Have clotted and clogged up ages ago,
Much like the drain I see outside my window.
Nobody bothers to fix what is already hopeless.

And yes, they said I was a writer,
But the words I once loved,
Have long flown off in search of greener pastures.

For they once said I was a writer,
But there's no writer left in me.

The End

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