What do you want!
To write what I know!
What I feel?
Rage.
Pain.
You want a poem!
You want me to weave these thoughts into something beautiful?
I can’t!
They’re not!
They’re ugly. They’re dark and unforgiving.
Every ******* day they seek only to permeate my spirit.
Inebriating my endeavors with doubt and condemnation.
Yeah, no!
There’s nothing of beauty here.
You best toddle along now.
Go back into the light little one.