Artless

this is about the frustration and hopelessness it is to be a writer.

I’ve got no art in my veins

And nothing to say to you

Of all people, nothing to impress you with.

I’ve got no message.

I’m just blindly stomping

And barely hoping that someone

Will stop me and say

Slow down.

Don’t you know where you’re going?

That bridge has a toll and God knows

The republicans have taken enough.

So I saddle up my pony and take

A ride on the wild side and

Everything else that falls in my hands

I take it all and run and later

Stop to examine and realize it’s dust.

Just dirt in my hands and there’s no story,

Nothing to tell.

Author's Note

please, be honest. Thanks for reading! (:

Reviews

[Tony]

Thought provoking write. Searching for inspiration-- something like it seemed fun and inspiring at the time but now "Just dirt in my hands". Cool imagery anyway you interpret it.

[Mauricio Montoya]

Poetry is an art, and here you've displayed that.
Great job.