I wish I could show you my world of writing.

I wish I could be in the tall purple-glazed mountains with Shakespeare and Harper Lee,

I wish I could say I don’t pay a weekly visit to spell check.

I wish I could write like my mother, the queen of the world.

I wish I could dive into wet words,

Instead of hitting my head on the concrete of writers block.

I wish I could tell you this was a poem,

If only it were such a beautiful thing.

I wish I could say I write as much as Suess

Or as frightening as King

Or even as published as... E. L. James...

I wish I could say my world of writing is filled with happy thoughts,

That flow gently through the streams,

As opposed to the real thoughts that pollute the water throughout the world.

I wish I could say I could write an untainted, uncliched romance novel,

Or write of mysteries I could answer.

I wish I could tell you this isn’t my first poem my world has seen in weeks.