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Abigail-MadsenPoems
I don't write poetry anymore I was lying on my bed lost in my thoughts and I realized I don't write poetry anymore I used to write so much that my fingers would be sore and that my words would almost become a bore but now I don't write poetry anymore. At some point in the last two years I stopped writing blame life, blame time blame the fact that maybe I forgot how to rhyme Okay, I didn't forget how to rhyme but maybe I forgot to be passionate. I don't write poetry anymore Words and thoughts and ideas used to pop into my head and I could not keep my fingers on the keyboard as they fled fled from my head fled to the page whether fueled by passion or by rage I had things to say and words I wanted heard and now it seems so absurd I have no ideas, no thoughts come to mind I know poetry takes time but I don't have much time things to do and people to see the world seems to expect so much out of me two years have passed and I almost forgot this task task of passion and of heart task I had fallen in love with from the start words mean so much and I love to write I guess that is why I am here tonight I had this thought and it shook me to my core this hobby I used to adore time I used to feel I had a purpose for but now my fingers have forgotten how to soar my thoughts and ideas are poor I guess that's why I don't write poetry anymore
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
I Don't Write Poetry Anymore
I don't write poetry anymore I was lying on my bed lost in my thoughts and I realized I don't write poetry anymore I used to write so much that my fingers would be sore and that my words would almost become a bore but now I don't write poetry anymore. At some point in the last two years I stopped writing blame life, blame time blame the fact that maybe I forgot how to rhyme Okay, I didn't forget how to rhyme but maybe I forgot to be passionate. I don't write poetry anymore Words and thoughts and ideas used to pop into my head and I could not keep my fingers on the keyboard as they fled fled from my head fled to the page whether fueled by passion or by rage I had things to say and words I wanted heard and now it seems so absurd I have no ideas, no thoughts come to mind I know poetry takes time but I don't have much time things to do and people to see the world seems to expect so much out of me two years have passed and I almost forgot this task task of passion and of heart task I had fallen in love with from the start words mean so much and I love to write I guess that is why I am here tonight I had this thought and it shook me to my core this hobby I used to adore time I used to feel I had a purpose for but now my fingers have forgotten how to soar my thoughts and ideas are poor I guess that's why I don't write poetry anymore
Getting back in the game because life is too short to loose sight of your passions
Abigail-Madsen
Written by
Abigail-Madsen
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
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