Listen

Have my ear against the wall in attempts to hear them talking

Wide awake in my dreams

I’ve been living sleepless nights

Just a writer jotting notes

Base it on a scripted life 

Fixated on the right

When what’s left is so wrong 

Writing my wrongs to write these songs

She’s the paper I write these thoughts and feelings on 

I’m next to useless all alone 

If I take another L I’m on the road home 

My judgments been clouded by all this smoke

I say it’s just a cough

You really think weed smoke? 

Leader of the goals 

Get the lost I’ll lead them home

Starving all my hopes will only feed the ambition 

No there’s nothing’s gone

But it feels like something’s missing  

Author's Note

What do you think

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This might be the most honest thing I've read by you. Sometimes it seems like your writing is more about word crafting, but this time it's more about the message. Your lines feel a little bit scrambled as if you're pouring out the truth just exactly the way it's coming to you. Here you have described how I often feel, but I would manicure the lines to make some point. Here you allow your pointlessness to stand, unapologetically, & I realize how sometimes the most disjointed outpourings are most powerful & touching. Instead of each line being crafted to follow the one before, each one of your lines feels like something you just plucked from your brain, like you pluck petals from a flower & they don't always match or happen in an unblemished way. I like this rawness of your writing, becuz it does not feel like haphazard stream of consciousness blathering (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie