Just Another Wannabe

Just Another Wannabe

Erin L George

 

Just another wannabe artist

Her paint strokes were forced

Into pockets of clog

She never did understand just when

To use Liquid Plumber

Or call on the plumber �"

Authenticity measured in the cliché

Of his crack

Winding. And pulled, like her strokes.

Just another wannabe writer

Where words came in spurts

In ink blots cursed

He never did like linguistic

When to use past, here or now

Or to toss caution to And �"

Dangerously placed at the start

Of a verse

Hanging. And twisted, like his verb.

Just another wannabe rock star

Whose lyrics was lost

In static and drunken spews

She never did know how to move

To hear rhythms borne

Or to feel it instead �"

Awkwardness caught in crossfire

In chorus

Bending. And torn, like her cord.

Just another wannabe actor

His lips tripping on script

In blundering words

He never could feel his character

To know when to cry

Or to bring from inside �"

Ability judged in Academy Award

In a line

Dusty. And fake, like his form.