Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I will not talk about my losses, where I neither gave up nor tossed in the towel, and still did not come out a winner, the winner. Maybe I am not built to compete, I have no grit no edge to my way, maybe life is fun, and we are to just play? Maybe when you feel sorry for your self, you lose, your edges now, are broken bits, that makes deep cuts into your pysche, a vivisection of the visceral. Maybe thoughts like this are best bottled up and tossed in an ocean made up of the tears that rain down and pour like a wash filled with every dream, every goal, every first step of last resort, I ever had that never left the space. the gray space above my ears, which heard my cry and my eyes which see but have no handles to turn off the faucets that they have become, leaking saline, while I pretend to understand Einstein. I write and that makes me a writer and a winner, what pray tell, are you a winner at...? I am listening. ©DWE112013
0
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
What are you a winner at?
I will not talk about my losses, where I neither gave up nor tossed in the towel, and still did not come out a winner, the winner. Maybe I am not built to compete, I have no grit no edge to my way, maybe life is fun, and we are to just play? Maybe when you feel sorry for your self, you lose, your edges now, are broken bits, that makes deep cuts into your pysche, a vivisection of the visceral. Maybe thoughts like this are best bottled up and tossed in an ocean made up of the tears that rain down and pour like a wash filled with every dream, every goal, every first step of last resort, I ever had that never left the space. the gray space above my ears, which heard my cry and my eyes which see but have no handles to turn off the faucets that they have become, leaking saline, while I pretend to understand Einstein. I write and that makes me a writer and a winner, what pray tell, are you a winner at...? I am listening. ©DWE112013
I will finish NanoWriMo tonight or early tomorrow morning Pacific time 50,000 words in 30 days,  third year in a row, you want to tax yourself give it a try, sound easy do it with one hand behind your back, lol.
darrell-wade-elverum
Written by
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem