A Fork in the Writing Road

A look into the constant struggle of an unknown writer.

Inside I'm convinced that I have more to offer
But my outsides tell me not to even bother
Every day I implore for greater exposure,
Yet as the next day comes, I have nothing to show for
At a young age I was taught to follow my dreams
In it to win it, the sky's the limit
Yet I was held back by my lack of self-esteem

Insistently, my heart begs me to continue my writing
Sardonically, my mind laughs at all the poem reciting
Why's it so funny that I pour my emotions on paper?
Broken and battered, the pen has been my only real savior
Halfheartedly, I take a path that's already been traveled
I'm absent-minded, my sight is blinded
Inconsequently, my sanity's starting to unravel

I want to be different like I had once believed
My dreams buried beneath me, now I'm left bereaved
Why's it so hard to create a name for yourself?
I want to see my name on the books in a shelf.
I'm one in a million, but my voice is too small
I'm not essential, I'm nothing special
I'm just another god damn brick in the wall

So how do I get my voice to be heard?
I fight, I write, yet I can't see the light
Are my hopes and dreams really that absurd?
Detained, in pain, black ink: my heart is stained
Ahead of me lies a fork in the road
To go left or right, oh where shall I go?

Abashedly, I start down the bright, clear path towards the left
Unknowingly, I happened to choose the easy route instead
Why do we compromise our dreams due to the uncertainty?
We're scared of the darkness and infinite possibilities
Haphazardly following down the line of society
Marching one by one, the damage is done
Unfortunately dropping our dreams of notoriety

All of a sudden, my vision becomes less clear
I'm lost on the road; I'm accompanied by fear
I have to forge on, it's too late to turn around
If only I went right, I might be safe and sound
I let out a piercing scream, yet no one is aware
Like a memory in the distance, I am no longer there