Poetry What is Wrong with Me?

PandorasBox101

A cold hearted bastard
I sit in front of a light
My eyes staring into the brightness
A blank page fills my sight
It may be empty, but my brain feels a mess

Reluctantly I raise my finger
Hovering over the keys
I type one singular letter
And instantly hate what I see

Quickly, I smash the backspace
Regretting all my previous choices
Alas! What is this strange being
Who yells in my brain through angry voices?

I smack my head down on my desk
Making a magnificent "THWOK"
I know what monster attacks me

The monster known as writer's block.

And embarrassment...
 
I thought this was gonna be another piece of poetry about how "everything I do is wrong and nobody can hate me more than myself", but this was just... Glorious
 

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