There’s a struggle.
To exit this place.
For not many visit.
My dream is dying.
My talent in gold.
Or so I thought.
Fools gold instead.
What more can it be.
Once, the well was full.
There was creativity.
Ideas to fish out.
Now, the well has echoes.
Reblogs! For a price.
To just collect ‘Likes’?
Is no one reading?
My self esteem at nil.
Should I join a dead poets club?
And fade into nothingness.
Blank pages in the wind.
Such a cliché. Snap out!
By C.E. Pereira
(4-3-2020)
HoneyGwhiz 
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