Experiences Write Themselves

June 27, 2014
I turned the switch off one day
The lever that lets my life replay
I threw the past to the floor,
swearing I didn't need memories anymore
Out the door and to the woods I went
I breathed in the the forest, every little element
Taking out a pen and tattered journal in one motion,
I asked the crisp air for some inspiration
But the faucet of my mind only sputtered
The feeling of the words barely fluttered
Angry at the oxygen which I breathed in,
I pleaded with the creek for a dose of inspiration
The waters splashed scattered words at me
But I was not blessed with the usual sea
Aggravation mixed into my lack of creativity
I tried one last time, with one final plea
Climbing up an old Red Oak,
I believed I was filled with hope
But the branches of my thoughts cracked
The sound was as if the limb clapped
Face down in the dirt, I saw a light
The only inspiration was the old, the fight
Smiling, my dirty hands moved quickly
One million miles behind was inspiration in me
My pen can only bleed out for what it knows
Otherwise, the words are useless and somewhat low
The past can only bring a future masterpiece
The lessons learned that now the world can see

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Sparrow01 said...
Jul. 5, 2014 at 4:21 pm
I really love the imagery and the meaning behind this poem, I can relate :)
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