Tabula Rasa

"My heart aches
My soul bleeds
My eyes cry crimson tears
I glance in the mirror
My blood-streaked cheeks,
They may never clear."

These lines are cliched.
I cannot deny truth.
At least I tried
To write something new.

My mind is blank.
No thoughts will come.
My worthless attempts,
Are almost done.

Crumpled papers collect in a can.
I grip my pencil in my hand.
Good thought are minimal,
And into myself I crawl.