Frustration is no pretense when the words that you form barely form into a sentence, but writing is a life sentence, isn't it?
I need to get away, take a holiday, somewhere far away from the paper and pen,
but what would I do then?

When I am smudged against the sky and all things behind me are the reasons why,
I shall try again with the paper and pen.

No one really likes the dark, do they?
but one day when the sun burns away
into the vaporous and the light that
we seek escapes from us
we'll get used to it.