Poetry

Unmotivated.

I sit here with my pen in hand,
Blank paper before me, thoughts unmanned,
The words won't come, the ink won't flow,
My mind feels empty, a deserted cove.

I feel unmotivated, lost and alone,
My creativity seems to have flown,
The ideas that once filled my mind,
Now seem dull, uninteresting, hard to find.

I wonder if it's worth the time and strain,
To fill these pages, with thoughts mundane,
Will anyone read it, or care to see,
The world that I've captured, inside of me?

I fear the silence, the deafening sound,
That comes from no one else being around,
I check my stats, my views, my likes,
They're all so low, it's hard to strike.

It feels like no one's interested in what I write,
That my words are lost, out of sight,
But deep inside, I know it's not true,
I write for myself, that's all I can do.