the newbie failure complex(ity)

the poems come torrentially,
hurricane, waterfall & tornado are working adjectives
worthy of the task, yet unequal to the unlimited army
of the written dead of unread poems and poets
that occupy the nether of blog, podcast, and poetry sites,
orphan stars in the un-salvaged junkyard galaxy of verbiage

a faceless wight, once alive, now permanently dead,
we shuffle march, chanting each our own newbie poem,
onward soldiers to ignominy and glory so fleeting,
we are forgot before we are remembered

this is life in poetry,
or better yet,
the worst of it, (sigh)
this is the poetry of lives

all for nought,
nought for all,
at least we pass our prison time
in the company of fellow strugglers

Help! Cried the money
I am looking for my worth
I feel so empty

By. Lauren

I'm feeling kinda sad.
It's been years since I was in this place.
Yet today, you felt the need to entangle me in bed sheets
and clothes too big to be my own.