The words I lay upon a sheet are swifter than your own
Your pen is no match for me
The rhymes you try are dull

My sharpened verse is cutting you
Keep writing how you don't care
The scars my words will leave behind
Are something that you'll crave

Bitterness seeps from every syllable
They cry just like a child
Your work is but a warning
Of how much you need to grow

My interest in this is fleeting
And so
I let you go