Maybe Island

Maybe, maybe, maybe

Once the maybes buzzed in my head 

Like flies around the decaying corpse of a flattened raccoon

I wrote them all down, but they didn’t add up

Like a maze with only dead ends 

I turned it this way and that but there was no way out

I sifted through those maybes like a gold miner with his pan

But all I got for my effort was sand and more sand 

I was like a sailor stranded on a desert isle

Left to squint hopelessly out at the horizon 

Was that a plane I saw? 

No, just another winged maybe, here to taunt me in my isolation

I searched the sea for fish, but all I found were maybes

A barrel drifted ashore, but it was filled with little maybes 

At night, I tried to sleep, but my pillow was lumpy with maybes that squirmed and stung me

Then you said no. 

And the no stormed the beaches of my little island, and slaughtered all the maybes 

Stomped them all flat 

And I looked out at the water 

And realized, with all those maybes dead, I was utterly alone. 

Author's Note

I've never been good at writing poetry, but I think a lot of people could relate to this. i forgot i had it, i wrote it for a writing class like a year ago.

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

Well you know how to rip the heart out and say, keep reading. Beyond thoughts. Nice to Brilliant

[Jake Donald Stephens]

Wow, I definitely can relate to this.
"Maybe" should be declared "not a real word" in my opinion.