I use to write, br crawl the vastness of my mind with words br creep into the valleys, soar the peaks br glide over the spasms, sprint across the fields br but now it seems someone has broken my pen br and there is this thin ink all over the floor br and I lay there with my hands and legs stained br I can't write anymore br I only smudge the walls I lean against br the ink has got in between my finger-nails br I stay up all night and dig deep to clean the stains but they won't go br guess this time someone else has written all over me...