Telling Me It's Them, Thinking It's Me Poem by Nicholas Neato

I'm stuck again
Writers block
Words in motion
Suddenly stop
I'm at the bottom
I'll reach the top
No matter the time
The clock just loves to tock
This ticking in my ears
bagging my eyes to lock
Lock out the light
Lock out the chalk
Used to outline the bodies
Of those who were all talk
I told em load em up
Now thier laying on a bloody sidewalk

How many times is this going to happen
Murdered by my own two hands
This goes deeper then the need for attention
It's the lack of need for a real man
I'm tired of cowards crying
Too afraid to take a stand
I know there's no more room for me here
I'm late in times and to spaces we've been