Stupid Deep

They say, "Write to express, not to impress."
But you don't want my raw pain.
You want it wrapped up
In a pretty dress.

You won't read
"Life is a drag, existence is torture."

No, you want
"My river of life has run dry,
I am but a depleting reservoir"

They say, "Do what you love,
And you'll never work a day."
But passion won't fill my plate;
Indulging the whims of my soul won't pay.

So I take up "gainful employment,"
And when it gets too much,
I take a blank page
Let my pen run wild, and vent.