Do you ever get weary of words

Tired of observations

Tired of the emotions

Do you ever wonder what’s the point

In writing something down

Leaving your scratch upon the paper

Is it your personal therapy

Emotional release, mind cleansing

Or an exercise in futility

But here we are with pen in hand

Life’s essence flowing with the ink

The unblemished paper

Now soiled with thought

Was it intentional

Or careless word roulette

You look at the bloody trail of ink

Shrug your shoulders and sigh

Perhaps someone understands