To say all of these things
My hatred for this place
For the way I became
There's not enough words to say
Everyday it ends up
The same old thing
For what I spent years of my life learning
My vocabulary wound up declining
For each new wicked way to describe it
I lost a piece of my soul
For every piece I put in writing
Until words themselves become quite
Rudimentary
All these hounding thoughts will drive you Rather crazy
Darkened quips I once thought would save me
Now all my words come back to betray me.
I am the palewriter
I am my own worst enemy....
And to the illustrator,
I say:
... I set you free...
I hope you have your happy ending
©palewriter
P