Resignation of a Writer

with all the words that i write, i've reflected on my life. ive reflected on loves, and reflected on strife.

would you listen to what i wrote? would you even dare? its not worth the sugarcoat. itd be too much to bare.

publish the lies and publish the truth, because none of it has meaning. a soliloquy slips from my tooth, the result shows nothing redeeming.

the audience shares a glance with me, they can see how vulnerable i am. they start to clap and laugh at me, they think its the end of the program.

was any of it worth it, did anyone care about what i said? i couldnt get these senseless thoughts out of my stupid head.

to be a writer is to be performer, is to also be a star why am i not like the rest of them, how did they get that far?

crumples of paper into the bin, i worked relentlessly. all i made was rubbish again, this was hurting me mentally.

giving up seemed the easy way out, i had already tried to get it. being a quitter made me feel shameful, but i-