The Tribulations

Writer's block for months on end

Pages scattered on the floor

Ideas strike and dissipate just as quickly

The words that do not grasp emotion

Self inflicted hatred,

Another page thrown to the ground

Wondering why even bother

Later apologizing to the words,

Its about passion and expression

Not whether it goes somewhere or not

 

Reviews

[Alistair (Ali)]

writing is the very end product of experience, it really is the last-day flag.
Your moment is taken on- it forms a truth in it's own time, that could take years to percolate through the strata of your everyday.
What you did, half past the hour, may surface 10 years from now.
All that you can do, is be there, when it comes in- and it will, because it's yours- give it clothes and guide it home- it was always yours.

I know this feeling- hated it at first, then grew to love it- because I knew the machine was in motion.

Throw the pigeon far- it will return.

Wonderful write that speaks in granite truth.

[Kasey Miriam]

Thank you foe the perspective

[Alistair (Ali)]

My friend, I promise you that years have taught me this!- no wisdom, just the drawing out of days- I am 47 years young, and you, hold the keys to the future.
Forget format and all that old bollocks- tell the people how you feel, and what you see- soon you will be as old as me, and remember.
Many mini-fist-pumps to you!
Nice one!

[Davidgeo]

Line seven, you forgot a word ("(I) belong"")

Whisky helps with writers block... and good weed brings you back when there's too many ideas floating around driving you insane.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

love the apology to the words...and yes, on the last two lines...that is precisely how it is...

it's the feeling, the journey...not the ends...

[Kasey Miriam]

Thank You, Glad you come to read so often