My Pen Caused Me My Death

I died.

I raised my pen up high and sighed

Chest-level, looking down, I began to inscribe

My emotions that linger, I'm knackered, I'm tired

I never found someone to have my secrets confide

I died.

Once again, I lost track of time

No longer excellent at this, unlike my prime

I threw everything in the water, all my dimes

Wished myself a happy ending, still lost my rhyme

I died.

All stories were sheets of threadbare cliches

I searched for the purpose, nothing was there

I rummaged my drawers, spilled the black ink

Crumpled my drafts, breaking my pen, I'm on the brink

Goodbye.