Just One More

Trapped.
Undiscovered.
Unexplained.
Mind, body, soul;
Emotions, thoughts, ideas; swelling, consuming.
Blank page thirsts for words.
Each empty inch, mocking, taunting.
Scratches on paper of pre-defined shapes.
Jumbles of letters, random words.
Can you feel my heart, love, loss, gain?
Wordds flow freely.
One line, two...
First stanza, wait...
Not good enough, never sounds right.
Right or wrong?
MY emotions, thoughts, ideas?
Victim of "criticism", "opinion", "suggestion".
Right or wrong?
Who's to say?
Just one more corpse in the paper grave...