i wish i could write like you,
the poster child of poetry.
i wish i could tear apart my brain,
seek out all the words worthy of writing,
and paint them onto paper
like an artist in his prime.
i wish i could change lives,
mend hearts,
and enlighten minds,
simply with my words.
i wish i could breathe new life,
new meaning,
into a tragically meaningless string
of twenty-six letters.
i wish i could be like you,
the poster child of poetry.
but i'm not.
in fact,
as we speak,
i am questioning
where to go with this poem,
or whether i should go through with it at all.
as we speak,
my mind is racing,
and yet i can't get a single **** thought down.
as we speak,
life is continuing in its endlessness;
words are being spoken and prayers are being answered and changes are being made;
breaths are being stolen and smiles are being formed and happiness is being spread.
as we speak,
wars are being waged and injustices are being overlooked and hatred is being endorsed;
trees are being burned and rivers are being drained and death is being glorified.
as we speak,
the world is turning;
the clock is ticking;
the world is changing.
and yet
as we speak,
all i can think about
is you.
(a.m.)
this is bad sorry.