[ Grinding on the eyes ]

Grinding on the eyes
The blank page before you lies
The pencil flowing out words
On the air in tiny hordes
Knowing you can't sympathize
Sympathize and realize
This is time to write
Screaming into the light
That lamp that gives no hint
And the helpless gift of lint
The air that's has that musk
You been up since last dusk

Your hair is messy
Shirt unclean
Ketchup stains
On your jeans
Your fingers ache
Your breath is bad
Your tired, so tired
Your eyes have bags

Your bathroom awaits you
Your dog does too
(And in the distance,
You hear your cats mew)

You KNOW the words are in your hand
You KNOW the words are there to stand
You KNOW the words are waiting for
You to KNOW how to use them, now that it's four

"I GIVE UP!" you scream in anger
Then you rip out another paper
Crumpled up, thrown to the ground
But there's nothing there, not a vapor

You decide to write your malice
Picking up the pencil, scribbling furious
You unleash emotion, locked for days
About the crimes injurious

Against you made by your accursed mind
And against all that you left behind
About all the things you endured today
About all the animals with which you did not play

Alas. A poem is born.