I wish i could write poems well
Maybe write songs that would do well and sell
But I can’t
Everytime I try I’m scared I’ll copy
That my work can’t be understood cause it's sloppy
Making no sense like a mindless zombie
Cause sometimes I think ahead
Beating pencil lead over this paper’s head
My poems feel like a retread
I must’ve misread what I said
My peers stare like arrowheads
Shot directly towards my head
This is the fear I dread
The fear that sometimes drives me out of bed
That my writing is bad, a verbal bloodshed
On there ears, I wish i wasn’t here
Upping the fear and putting me on edge
I thought about what I read
As push my mind over the ledge
After every word I said
Because my creativity is dead