Oh, why am I being a fool,

Dreaming and dreaming and dreaming,
About something I could never be.
Oh, why do I think I can write,
When so many are failing.
And I believe I've got the guts to succeed,
When I know how my heart cries,
When I read yet another rejection slip.
Oh, why do I think someone will ever bother,
To read the message in my story,
That I've sweated blood and tears to write.
Oh, why don't I realise that my skin is thin,
My eyes squint and my bottom flat from it all,
And I've never earned a single penny,
For the efforts of my thoughts.
Oh, to be a writer!