The Desk Poem by jamal wooden

I sit at my desk, surrounded by papers and pen,
A cup of coffee nearby, my thoughts begin.
Each item in its place, occupying its small space,
I take a deep breath, and let my thoughts unfold.

I put aside my cigarettes, and let my mind roam free,
The words begin to flow, as I try to clear my mind.
I write to free myself from the burdens I bear,
To find solace in the blank page, and silence my doubts.

But as I write, I'm met with uncertainty,
The answers I seek are elusive, leaving me hollow.
I search for meaning in the depths of my mind,
But it's like trying to find a book on a dusty shelf.

The cycle of life repeats itself,
Day follows night, and night follows day.
I'm left searching for answers that may be hidden away,
And wondering what it's all for.

As I lay down my pen,
I can't help but feel regret,
For taking on this profession that seems unsatisfying,
And wondering if I'll ever find my true calling.