I remember writing happy poems
Those days are gone
Distant as the star
I have been wishing on

I used to publish pleasing words
Now don't even try
How can I write about the beauty of life?
I want badly to die

I once sung upbeat music
From voice silence stole melody
Every song played through my headphones
Recorded in minor key

I used to write positive things
Thoughts like that visit less and less
Every direction my mind takes
Leads back to unhappiness

I used to create pretty pieces
These days pencil goes to mark
Before reaching the bottom of the paper
Verses take a turn for the dark

It is not that I have writer's block
Inspiration easier than ever to find
Problem is the subject matter
Originates from blackest corners of my mind

I remember arranging sunny stanzas
Covering love
Friendship
And magic
Poetry used to be happy
Now each line will forever stay tragic