The Writer’s Anguish

I don’t
think
I have
anything
to say

Today

Perhaps
there
will be
more
sorrow

Tomorrow

So I
will
wait to
pick up
my pen

Then

For I
fear I
wouldn’t
even
know how

Now

How Long?

How long
can you
go on
writing

When
your only
inspiration
is spite?

And now
you’ve had
to start
forgiving

So that
you can
sleep
at night