Don’t believe the hype

it’s all tripe 

I fight to be heard 

with powerful words 

but sometimes I fall short

a butterfly caught

in agonising self expression 

another session

of writing does it yield results?

heart felt words 

and worlds I have built

love and blood I have spilt 

my flowers wilt 

I try to water and nourish them 

but they break at the stem

but I need them 

I am my confidence 

my ego defined

yet I mine 

for excellence 

for written talent

But I fall 

sometimes short

another poet who’s caught in the block

a rock stopping my river from flowing 

I live in knowing that I want to be a success

and in this I can never rest.