Demotivated Writer Poem by William Ndoyisile Somenze

Words thumbing my arachnoid, screaming 'Free
us' for we are not slaves for thoughts, & I hold my
head as I feel their knuckles rattling from
within, wanting to pierce through my skull, then I
between the essentual strokes of my fingers hold
the hypodermic needle to inject the blank page
with my rage, & my thoughts reaching a certain
range: that profound poetry arise to eyes whose
minds are reigned by discombobulation. I the
impeded doctor holds-in the palms of my hands-a
syringe with a cannula filled with the source of life
to the blank dried page, but feeds it not & breaks
my hypocratic oath as I stand here with soul's life
in my hands & watching it bite its own vapid
portion from drought.