It’s not easy
Some days I feel dried up
Unable to write
Like a pen
That’s been left in the drawer
Will I ever write again?
Will they publish more?
I give myself a fright
Thinking the worst
Then a burst
Of words flows
The drought
And the doubt
Are over
Summer 2006
You take their hopes and dreams
But nothing's what it seems
The puppets dance to your tune
You promised them the Moon
Singing your hollow words
Until they become absurd
TV shows and promo tours
Screaming fans at hotel doors
Selling them into pop slavery
Stardom isn't free
23rd March 2007
Eleven thirty
Watching TV
Eyelids heavy
Drink my cup of tea
I head
Upstairs
To bed
Midnight
Something's not right
Head feels light
I'm not sleeping tight
August 2008