My Pointless Words

Sodden was I in their praise; myself I let wash away Their words, drops of nourishment to my own A pedestal had I found beneath myself My inspiration, had I forgotten. Weeks pass, the error of my ways known Studies do I pursue in vain The serenity found, now lost An act of passion, now a tedious task. Attempted to mend, have I mentally Fear the response, will I always My name seeps no honour The credit I claimed, was never owed. Each write, diminished by discrepancy Without you, is there no point to ink.