I am sitting, waiting for inspiration

To flow freely from my head

For a moment

This all seems so phony

Every form grows surreal

I give it up for those who can defend

Their existence, because

Sometimes I barely find reason to

​

I am insecure

I have been in this room all night

There are hours between these verses

That is inspiration alright

​

And now the paradox of celebration is upon us

For some, their only reason for living

For others, another reason to stop living

For me, the irony of life itself

The inspiration that we think

comes from outside our little worlds

Actually is born within

Humans call it intuition

Scientists confuse it with reason

​

I give it up for those who can defend

Its (reason) existence, because

Sometimes I barely find reason to