My aborted without e poem, this is what came out instead. Can’t fight the muse!

Some people find a lot of comfort in religion.

Poem.

She needed a hit/Just one more…

A hurtful person and their hurtful ways.

There is much that we writers like to write. If you ask me we write too much to satisfy our egos, too much to stroke our indulgences, all the while, the world slides into depression and anxiety. Is there nothing writers can do? I think we could at least try.

Stop watching the time click idly by…

How do you describe love?

Being the eye of love.