A book of my own

I'm watching as empty pages
rot before my eyes
withering into dust
and blowing away with time
i get so many ideas
but my words have ceased to rhyme
i feel as if I'm nothing
just a handless mime
but deep inside my head
dancing on my mind
i have a book of my own
a book no one else will find
which is for the better
because if they read it they'd go blind
..and i know with age
the words will fade away
leaving only a mindless rage
with nothing left to say..