I can't seem to find the words
To carve under my name
As I brave the star-eyed herds
All migrating for fame
Half a mind with less in heart
I scribble on the page
All eroded falls apart
Not born yet tinged by age
Feeling like old Bartleby
I'd simply prefer not
Still not coming easily
Lost patience on the spot
Standing stiff with hand to gland
Send futures down the drain
Who knew life could be so bland
Would sooner suffer pain
At a loss with blood run dry
I'm crawling in the dark
A single tear falls with a cry
But that won't leave a mark
Bygone friends all moving on
A child, a wife, a life
Soon they will be surly gone
In cool domestic strife
Tenderly I grasp my pen
A lover all its own
What my children might have been
Their seed spilled but not sown
Wondering where I should stand
I look upon the Styx
If I cared a little less
That might just be the fix
Whisper nothings in my veins
Held candles to my heart
Pinpricked point won't be the end
Perhaps a quiet start