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Oct 2015
Her I sit, just trying to write
Applying to jobs like that’s my life’s plight

To pave right ahead, don’t think till I’m dead

Grows heavy feelings in fingers like lead

What feels not genuine in things I’m sendin them?

I try and be real yet I see I pretend again

Again and again, deceits all I’m lendin them

Breath nice and slow and try an begin again

Again and again, nothings been mended friend

Take what you’ve got and take what you’ve done

Throw all that on paper, compressed into one

One single page

My resume

What does it say of me?

Dry tidbits of years and hours that came from me

Once it was sang from me

Once pulsed and rang from me

Like torrents of heart, blood, and tears

It all drained from me

Left out in the sun, some dry shrinking things

The future will come
Let it bring what it brings
Steven Martin
Written by
Steven Martin  San Diego
(San Diego)   
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