sometimes i wish my pen didn’t run out of ink
just when inspiration strikes
and i finally have something to say
alas more common my pen sloshes full
and in morbid fascination
i fill the pages with lines
no one cares to read
not even me
sometimes i wish my pen didn’t run out of ink
just when inspiration strikes
and i finally have something to say
alas more common my pen sloshes full
and in morbid fascination
i fill the pages with lines
no one cares to read
not even me