This would be poetic
I'm sure if I actually meant something
Sometimes even I don't know
What this is about
Or maybe I do know
I write and write
The first two lines
And go no farther
A secret smile in the dark
The patterns in my eyes standout to you
No.
That's not right
It's midnight
How cliché
A dreamer closes her eyes......
Let me guess, for the last time?
War torn valleys color red
With hate and disgust
A blood haze in the eyes
Of everything living
Your fight against me?
Only light was distant like the stars
The stars cowered behind the form of
The dark masses of clouds
Just like the light in you
Hides from the black in your soul
How original
This is hopeless
No, it's not
Why?
Because you're still writing
Aren't you suppose to be my writer's block
I am
Oh never mind
Why can't I put these ideas into words?
You have many questions
I'll answer one
*Because you're ideas are not fully formed