Just a general disclaimer. Not necessarily seeking critique on this, however as always, it is welcome. That being said, this was more just an expression of self, of inner frustration that I feel at times, and the difficulty I have even trying to express it through writing...which is generally the only means I have to express my emotions...
Have you ever sat down to write
to find every sentence a fight?
Words are called, beckoned, bribed:
Yet poetry’s light within has died.
The words are lost, they tumble about;
in the dark, you long to shout.
Frustration, stress, rage, boil within
and I don’t know how to show them!
I want to, I want you to know,
so I start, I try, my feelings to show.
Then I stop, I’m lost: I scratch, I claw.
My poem has heard raven’s caw….
I try to start again,
I can’t let this end.
Yet how do I begin?
Gah, this is no good, I wish to write.
But why, why has it become a fight?
My inner peace broken, aggravation grows,
solace invaded, damages show.
When peace of mind is shattered;
words, memories, skills are scattered;
I cannot write when my mind is broken.
Healing cannot occur if the problem isn’t spoken.
I’ll share this work, a pitiful cry,
an attempt at poetry, a pathetic try.
Is it even a poem, an attempt, is there a rhyme?
Truth be told I know you know I’ve wasted your time…
I give up
I’m in a rut:
Ctrl-C; cut.
Have you ever sat down to write
to find every sentence a fight?
Words are called, beckoned, bribed:
Yet poetry’s light within has died.
The words are lost, they tumble about;
in the dark, you long to shout.
Frustration, stress, rage, boil within
and I don’t know how to show them!
I want to, I want you to know,
so I start, I try, my feelings to show.
Then I stop, I’m lost: I scratch, I claw.
My poem has heard raven’s caw….
I try to start again,
I can’t let this end.
Yet how do I begin?
Gah, this is no good, I wish to write.
But why, why has it become a fight?
My inner peace broken, aggravation grows,
solace invaded, damages show.
When peace of mind is shattered;
words, memories, skills are scattered;
I cannot write when my mind is broken.
Healing cannot occur if the problem isn’t spoken.
I’ll share this work, a pitiful cry,
an attempt at poetry, a pathetic try.
Is it even a poem, an attempt, is there a rhyme?
Truth be told I know you know I’ve wasted your time…
I give up
I’m in a rut:
Ctrl-C; cut.