Sometimes inspiration is around you.
Sometimes you find yourself searching for it.
Some nights you got to sleep with arms wrapped around you.
Tomorrow your lonely by the start of morning.
Continued mourning....
Your art becomes boring
There is no more passion
There are only excuses
So many refusals
You start to feel useless
useless
until you
use less
of what they give and
use this
this
gift
of sharing
what you feel
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