On A Walk

Guys this is the finest piece i have ever written and this is the first time i have ever felt happy with my own work. Please comment on this.

Dawn has found me unable to sleep;
nothing to do but walk.
Through gray city streets I make my way
‘neath a milky sky of chalk.
While the living dead in silent streams
play out their mournful roles,
Hunger wastes their weakened flesh
as terror grips their souls.
Near a garbage can a starving mutt
picks at a rotting bone.
In a doorway filled with passion's treats
two desperate lovers moan.
On and on I trek waiting for the muse
to fill my empty mind.
A thousand words roll through my brain,
but I can't pen one line.
So in vain I walk these desolate streets
of loss and silent pain,
Among the tortured creatures of fate;
gaunt faces dark and wane,
Perhaps to find in this wash of souls
some twisted inspiration.
Or if truth be told to sate my own
quiet desperation.
Through a sobering rain I set my course
returning to safe haven,
Along avenues of hopeless yearning,
past homeless and craven.
There to nestle in my comfort zone of
boredom and simple dread,
Scribbling these heartless strokes of prose,
sanctifying the dead.
At last to complete this masterpiece of
profundity so deep.
Then close my mind, my heart, my soul
and quickly fall to sleep.