I'm in a cage,
I'm a slave to this page,
In my rage I dig inside
to find a rhyme to squeeze in between the naked wide-ruled lines.

And while that spectrum drowns my eyes
I sink skin deep like ink beneath the sheet
To play hide and seek
With the line I plan to bring to the peak

But all I see is a reflection of me
Scared in words,
And while i observe this marvelous feet
The spectrum lifts the veil and i see...

Lead or ink,
Which one should i keep in-case I make a mistake,
Should i scrape and rape the paper,
Or hollow it out with my eraser?
Sounds like I took a shot of Writer's Block with no chaser.