The harder I try, the harder it seems,
I’ve wasted much, reams and reams.
I’ve tried writing of infinity but couldn’t find an end.
Tried to write of society though I couldn’t offend.
I tried to write of death, can’t write in the dark.
Tried writing of youth but lost the spark.
Scribbled of sorrow, tears cleansed the sheets.
Dribbled of conquest but I had no feats.
I tried to write of time, that didn’t last.
Wrote of the future, thought of the past.
I’ve written coldly until my lips turned blue.
So I wrote of warmth and penned volumes for you.
My heart’s now thawed, boiling blood rises to brain.
Bleeding emotion doesn’t have to cause pain.
A trying life’s journey is what’s inked of late.
Perhaps it is now I’m writing of fate.