What to write about?

It’s been more than an year
Since I put my pen to good use.
The poet inside me has been living in fear.
Or maybe the will to write has been reduced.

There’s not much to write about these days.
Long gone are the days of first love.
“You’re not good enough for me” she says
Maybe that’s what’s written in the book above.

I could write about the stars and skies
It is after all a beautiful night tonight.
But this too, like all good things, will come to end
And again I shall be left with nothing to depend.

I could write about those I’ve lost.
scribble some words of love and hate.
But the time for that has crossed.
And now it’s way…way too late.

Could write about the disappointment I’ve caused,
To those who’ve loved me.
But all is not lost.
This, I can remedy.

I could write about a million things right now
But my heart keeps going back to love.
It doesn’t even matter anymore
‘coz she already said that I wasn’t good enough.