As i shuffle down the street on my way to class
My eyes shift back and forth for any sign of motivation
Some cosmic sign from god
Maybe the sun hitting the trees or the grass flowing
Eventually my eyes meet a lonely can on the road
What a lonely existence this can had lived
To have been loved and cherished and used and discarded
Maybe what i see in this can is a reflection of me...
No its just a stupid can and it will be nothing more than that
But, What power do i have as a poet. I am the god that inhabits this world
And my word is etched into the soul of this paper
I can assign life to any object i please and take it away just as fast
Or atleast until i realize how bad my last idea for a poem was