Poetry

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Doubt, Desire, Determination

written by: OurSacredHonor

The plain, the mundane
The ordinary, the typical
Was I really that much better?
Why now is this so difficult?
Is there no ink left in the well?
Have I become too predictable?
Is this all I have to offer?
I find this mirror so despicable
I can't look at myself
I can't write a single syllable
I never thought this skill
Could become extinguishable

Love was the fuel
Lust was the fire
I tried to play it cool
But for the most part I'm a liar
I couldn't clear my head
Let alone hope to inspire
I didn't sleep while in bed
And my emotions never tired
I always thought I knew
But you never inquired
And the way you let me go
Was something I always admired

If there were some trick to this
Or some sort of quick fix
A light to start the fire
From this pile of dried sticks
I'd use it in an instant
Instead I'm stuck with this stone and flint
I'm at the end of my wits
Words come in pieces and bits
I'm muzzled by a puzzle of what ifs
And I'm puzzled by my struggle with sentences
Reused themes, recycled rhymes, but I can't quit
You'll never hear me saying that this is it
Because even after I'm gone
This pen will be gripped
Passed on to another
Set of determined fingertips

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