People call it *******,

people call it crap,

you try to ignore it,

but you feel overwhelmed,

you ponder over books for

hours,

looking for new ideas,

though none of them are

as good as the first,

tears soak your clear page,

as your hard work is

turned upside down.

the words break my heart,

smear my page,

don’t they understand

how much it hurts

to see you’re own

work be hurt.