Brief free write for English 300...

This is the first poem I've written in years.

My apologies, if I have disillusioned you…
But I am not a poet.
Spectators regard my plain canvas with suspense
Expecting me to become a masterpiece.
But I am no longer creative.
My brain is bloated
Ballooned like a starved belly,
A ton of fatigue anchors me down.
Before long, I’ll be gaping
At my aged reflection.
The garbage of wasted years
Compiled into my abandoned to-do list.
This is all I am made of.
I’d like to lose my sanity someday.
The confinements of the mind
Are too rigid for a poem to bear.
But even though my imagination is restrained,
Pinned down by all this mental debris
I cannot help bowing to my languor.
It makes a morbid theme park of
Random obscenities in my mind.
In fact, I like the mayhem.