Oh my God, these people are idiots.
Am I my brother's keeper?
Let them devolve and die.
He can't read.
He can hear,
But he can't read.
Almost fifty and his eyes are going bad.
But he can't read
And as a writer I'm so sad.
Maybe he can read
He just can't see.
We have a bit of a transparency problem round here
Things have gotten too clear.
I'm beginning to suspect my friend Mike can't read,
He's nearly 50
I don't know how to approach the matter with him,
Perhaps I will hand him this poem
And see what he makes of it.
I used to believe in soul mates.
A somebody just for me
Waiting to be discovered and saved
From their loneliness.
A perfect partner,
The person who complimented and completed me.
But the older I get
The more I'm starting to believe that some people were just born to be single,
Not necessarily alone
But without a significant other,
And having another person around all the time would only lead to drama and conflict.
Some of us are just meant to be by ourselves, and only share the experience of living with friends and family.
I no longer believe in a somebody just for me,
I no longer search for her out there in the world,
But my life is happy
And my soul is at peace.
All I ever wanted to be was a writer.
It was conducive to being an alcoholic
And an addict,
And while I've been given a small amount of notoriety
And heard the applause of the audience at open mic nights
I have never earned an income plying my craft,
I've never finished that novel,
Never published my work.
Hundreds of thousands of words
Scattered around the world,
Saved to servers
Left on lonely library shelves in search of serendipity,
38 years and I've written of love
Of heaven and hell
The human condition,
And I am no more near that sweet fulfillment
Of living off my talents,
So I write as a past time
A way to cleanse my mind
It was Stephen King and Robert Frost that got me started
And here I am living the dream,
Writing for the sake of writing,
Sharing words and thoughts with both strangers and peers,
In between cans of beer,
And crack rock.