No matter how often
I come to Opuss, it seems,
All I do is stare
At the composing screen
I fill it up with stories
Just to pass the time
Sometimes I write poems
That barley even rhyme
But then I look at my feed
And what do I see?
A host of brilliant authors
More creative that me
So I delete my hard work
I think "there's no need
"to publish a story
That never gets seen"
I close the Opuss app
My mind full up with hate
It seems I'll forever be
Rank seven-one-eight
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