Bittersweet Defeat...

In this life of dreary habit
You offer some solace.
And yet I hate you
Not for who you are
But for who you make me.
Silly putty,
A plaything
My heart is at your will
To twist this way or that.
Precious ego
A battle of wills.
I want to give in
And flow away in the river,
The river of utter emotion.
And yet I refuse to,
A refusal to accept defeat
Self preservation.
A defeat which would be sweet
If you gave in too.
Two souls worlds apart
And yet poetically similar
Two halves that could come together and mesh
Mesh till they are inseparable
Homogeneous.
As I drown
Reason
My last straw
A struggle for survival,
Constant and endless.
I await the embrace of defeat
Which holds much promise
Bittersweet
If only you could embrace the courage
To give in too...

Un-inspired

Lack of inspiration
An intellectual drought
Emotions tapped dry.
The poet muses
The artist despairs
For art suffers.
Tragedy,
Heroism,
Romance and varied passions
Human emotions
Source of poetry.

The commoner is immune
To such troubles
For to him it is but a passing fancy.
As art dies
An inconspicuous death
The commoner lives on in ignorance.
Mediocrity rules,
Inglorious bastard!

When shall justice speak up
Poetic justice?
A lost, forgotten history
Pain-stricken yet wasted.
Disheartening
For the Artist who thrives on art
To watch from the sidelines
This ruination.
Hopeless and helpless;
An eternal suffering
This famine!