You make me hate my poetry Poem, by b-LAH-que, at My poetic side

Now and then I write
Creative bents may steer my sight
I make a mess of what was right
and put it into words

And late at night i think
And mistake for depth what only sinks
through mucky murk of opaque stink
And makes my ego hurt

I'll read a thousand times
rewritten, all the same old lines
that try to give me what I'd find
In an inspiring verse

And when I'm on the verge
Of making something I find worth
Exposing what's so true it hurts
You make me feel the worst

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