last i wrote i said i couldn't write
my mind had take flight over fight

now i'm back to say i've got bad luck
my mind isn't gone - the thing's just stuck

gears need to be oiled, readjusted, made into machine
even at night, i can barely think up a dream

my brain doesn't think of words anymore
only numbers and concepts now, a drastic bore

analysis creates paralysis
theme isn't on my team

rhythm, rhyme, and repeition?
at least i remember alliteration

english class ranks dead last
i dread picking up a pencil

i wish there was a way to start again
some literary imaginative stencil

i can't be consistent, i don't got flow
persona i can't figure out... although,

i've still got passion, a love for a voice
i'd become a writer if i still had the choice

but computers are my home now, my way of living
my contentment, my fun, my new way of giving

the writing, i suppose, i'll leave for the next chapter
never forgotten but my soul no longer enraptured

perhaps someday i'll recommence this quest
a programmer, a writer, maybe the best

but tonight i've realized, without further ado
it's my time sadly, to say goodbye to you

to words, to imagination, to brilliant creativity
to plots and characters and even poetry

to settings and outlines and boring development,
to late nights of racing minds and literary envelopment

you've shown me a world not many can find
a change in perspective i never did mind

i'll never forget you, and all that you've taught me
let it all go now, and finally be free.