I'm seriously thinking that it's time
To close down this production line
The constant flow in the making of poems
Has taken is toll on this poor soul

As the machinery sputters and coughs
Tossing it all against the wall
24 hours a day with so much rhyming at play
The time may be now as the hour grows late

I keep looking for the freedom within
A man without his paper and pen
Holding out on this self doubt
Should I take it now while I still know how

As I head for the door to shut out the lights
After giving my all as it's taken all of my life  
The only thing now left to be said
Is I don't have the courage...  
could someone else please throw the switch