Can’t be bothered

Interesting, isn’t it?

How I stopped writing songs

The day I learned to hum your tune.

How my rhymes didn’t matter,

When everything you were eclipsed me.

So strange,

How I managed to lose myself

In someone I swore

Gave me everything.

So odd,

You can’t be bothered to write,

Yet I am made of poetry

Begging to be written by your hands.