I can't write poems.

I don't think I can write poetry.  When I try, the words come out scrambled and sullied, 
never meaning what I want them to.  If I try to describe beauty, it doesn't and won't ever
live up to how beautiful things are inside of my head.  People are beautiful and alive, 
and I dont have the skill to describe it. 

I don't think as much as I want to.  I used to think more, I used to have words that would
crowd in my brain, shuffling and scuttling and pushing their way out.  I was a writer, and
I never knew if I was a good one.  Now, I'm just here.