I sold my soul to the devil,
it’s not what you would expect.
I didn’t want fame or money,
I just wanted to forget.
Now my memories are gone,
there’s nothing to regret.
And you’re just a shadow,
hiding behind a cigarette.
His brain tossed and turned like an insomniac with chicken pox.
The only thing blanker than his mind was his screen.
He was a writer, but the words never came easily.
He sat for days on end staring at the vast abyss of his blank screen.
His fingers lingered over the keys.
However, they stopped before leaving even a fingerprint as evidence of his mindfuckedness.
He was Microsoft wordless.