Clarity

I've had a sudden burst
of clarity.
It's enlightening and brilliant
in the most
pathetic sense
of the word.

Dank
and
bleak
and
overdone.

That's what I am,
and what my writing is,
and what everything I do is.

I try too hard,
and this clarity
comes to me now,
whispering of little,
pearly bubbles of lace
and silk flowers
that are all passed
to someone else.

These gifts aren't for me.
I will always be
good or mediocre
at everything, but
never great at
anything.
That is the price
I pay for relative
skill in all the arts
of the mind.

"If you try,"
the bubbles will say,
"you won't do well at all."
And the flowers giggle
with their shining, soft
silk
hissing
"If you don't try,
you'll never be anything at all."

The awful clarity
is enough to make someone
cry,
if you have a stomach
for such things.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A good write...Thank you for sharing...:)