You Can't Force Greatness, so Put the Fucking Bottle Down & Go Do Something Else

this sure is one job i hate,
having to sneak into my room,
plug the laptop in,
pour out a little Scotch Whiskey,
and have to come up with something
"great"
oh, the misery.
haha bullshit!
it's a fun way to pass time,
and you damn well know it.
prick.
some nights there's a fire burning,
ideas flow too fast,
some i lose,
some make it in,
and in the morning,
before i go slave for some cash,
i sit here and read them,
sipping on my coffee,
and i don't seem so great.
meh.
just another night,
sipping at the glass
and pounding on the keys.
maybe when you read it,
you think i'm sad,
lonely,
happy?
full of coyness for life!!
whatever,
it's honest words written at a time.
be it i was
drunk
horny
or
angry.
either way,
i know i'm going to drag myself
to this goddamn machine
and do it again,
night after night,
until someone makes me stop drinking
and being alone.
oh god,
oh
no,
then what?