i think i started five poems just now
trying to find the right words
some days they flow with ease
some days they sound
strained
the backspace button shows
the most wear on my keyboard;
i wish there was a
backspace
for life...
i stared at the screen too long
and it went black
tired of waiting for me to
think of some clever combination of words;
i never set a screensaver
there's something weird about those.
i read a poem the other day
by a poet telling us
what it takes to be
a poet
but i think anyone can be
whatever they want;
who are we to judge
when we are always writing
about those who
judge us?
our species is endangered
in this age of mindlessness
we are the catalyst
for creativity
the embers of the fire
started by the great minds
of ancient times...
will we let it die completely
or will we succeed
at rekindling its
greatness?