What do you do when
The words you strain to write
Have a shadow on the paper,
But lack the light behind the pen?
Pointless. The only thought
Successfully scratched upon the line,
Pink shavings taunting you, reminding you
Of failure at every stricken glance.
It's no wonder we find ourselves crippled,
For every second we are down, we feel empty.
As if such a force has doused our hope.
It's only then we remind ourselves of this;
