Brad Who?
My hand cowers
Scared and shitting
Been sitting here for hours
Still nothing is written
Condemned in a writer’s hell
Certainly of the worst
My head’s so swelled
Inadvertently gonna burst
All the untrusting voices
Prove such an annoying clatter
And those disgusting noises
Conspire, implying a splatter
Like a knot in my throat
It’s never spoke
Can’t lose what’s not wrote
Just another noose for the choke
It’s so demanding
But I could never state ‘em
They’re always landing
On an ultimatum
I lack the knowing
And it’s showing
Fuck
I don’t know where this is going
One of my biggest fears
Has stripped me of my purpose
That in ten years
Still no one will have heard this