Empty letter box.
Evening is filled with bird songs;
The time to take wing!

Bursted tyre, alone,
She tasted 'highway despair',
Lift offer, uplifts!

I am incapable of writing
So don't try to convince me that  
I possess countless poetic ideas.

Because at the end of the day,  
I see only failures in every attempt.  
And I'm not about to lie by saying that  
each setback helps me along.

Because no matter what,  
                        I feel trapped in a cycle of mediocrity.                        
And I am in no position to believe that  
true inspiration dwells within me.

For even in my darkest musings,  
Am I as uninspired as my doubts proclaim?

It’s not always bright
there can be darkness
but it’s got a bit of sentimental value to it there’s joy to be caught
even in small amounts