Sick and tired
Of sick and tired
Fleeting attempts at imagery
And to be the poet
I'll never be

Glazed over eyes
Seeing sugar coated lies
Reaching fingers to key
For the poet
I'll never be

Read my creations
of read sensations
Desperatley wanting to believe
In the poet
I'll never be

So here again I sit
Taking another crack at it
But be assured that you will see
The pathetic poet
I have come to be