the montonous life of a poet

Christmas break is almost over.....everything's felt so monotonous since it began. I can't believe I've only written three pieces in such a long time. One of my pieces written about a month ago was highly praised by my uncle, a well known playwrite from Chicago. It's called Conforming and can be viewed at: http://poetry.com/Publications/display.asp?ID=P3764504&BN=999&PN=7 I wrote something today so I feel oddly successful. It's below. The Colour of Pain (Goes with my book)the colour of pain is indifferentwith every breath it manifestsbringing to life more senselessnessbecause of lovebecause of wants and needs and perseverenceit's all about interferenceand lack of judgement seeping inso far it cannot be seenwithout the pressures of lifelike a fire inside a hollow maneverything is possible if trying is planned