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Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #1531764
lack of trust in one's work. Don't believe that you can do anything right.
Where will it end
This devastating truth,
That everything I touch
Will end up no good.

Whatever is done
Is never enough to
Try and reach up
To the clouds above.

My work is useless,
Not good at all,
I think I could succeed
But what a lie to be told.

I just don't understand
Why my writing is dirt,
I thought I was great
How they shall laugh now.

Well I have reached for help,
But what can they do?
Exchange my mind
For the Einstein in you?

Yet how much could
Be done with this?
A false mind in a
Strange and unnatural place.

Give me my mind
I want to just be me,
So I can fail in my
Own particular way.
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