what's the purpose of spewing empty words,
words with no meaning or use,
onto private pages?
why pour your soul into locked books,
taking down notes on every day,
recording every soul's breath?
why bother to release?
why bother to share,
to share things no one wants?
the cruelty of writing,
the mistress that forces the pen to move,
and yet promises no skill,
no readers, no fame, no future.
the pain. the rejection.
the pointlessness.
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