BREAKDOWN

It's been long since I last wrote
Now it feels so strange writing
And it makes no sense reading
Am bothered you might not find interest in this
Am even scared to publish this
They may find it just disappointing
What has happened?
Has my ink stopped flowing?
Or are my thoughts ceasing?
Lately I seem to spend more time in frivolities
And less time in things that I've lived for
These days I seem to be involved in too many
That I don't have time for few
...the few that matters
...the few that I've always been scared about losing.
Now am not worried I might make only a dollar or two from this,
Am only concerned that people have believed in me...in my pen
Is it my fault?
Or should I shift the blame to my pen?
Sure it would defeat me
It speaks louder and even more powerful than I do
And I see you trying to escape the blame
Am only human just like you
You should not have trusted me the way you did
Or did I set the bars too high from the beginning?
Sadly funny, you are gonna read this and feel is a show
Facade sometimes is good for show but be always ready for the flip side
...the real side is this; it's draining me and am spent.
And I count the lines, there are too many of them
And I seek the sense made, not even a few in sight.
Maybe I should put this in a rhyme
For it to sound like a rap
Though it would still be lame
But it would serve me right.
For that's the one thing these days that has a lot of words but with little or no sense for a grab!
Yesterday I thought a lot more and wrote less.
...less that made sense
Today am quick losing it, feeling my pen strange after a horrible estrangement
Whining over yesterday's power that I lost in last night's tussle
Tomorrow; I don't see nothing
But me thinking less and writing more
...more that won't make sense
Am gonna drop my pen
And tear my book
Take a bow and leave the stage even before I could get on it
But at least while the ovation is at it's loudest and the applauses lingers
If I find my track again
I might do one final lap
If my tracks eludes me however,
I might run a few lines again on another gibberish of me
then go down in history like a waste of talent
Can I face the challenge?