2

Nov

by jreece1992

Prompt:  I’m not using a specific prompt.  I’m just wingin’ it.

 

This never comes easy

and I think that’s true for most people.

I spew forth nonsense, trying

ever so dearly for comprehension.

 

It’s all bullshit.

I admit it freely, having

no reservations about it

in the slightest.

 

I sit, I stare, I ponder

I write, I delete, I change.

Knowing all of this is as foreign to me,

as Columbus was to the Native Americans.

 

What makes a line a line?

Why stop there?  Who says

it shouldn’t stop at “who” and not “says?”

Because I’m half guessing as it is.

 

I think I’m clever, citing

Witticisms from conversations.

But my wit never manifests

itself in anything I write.

Comments

  1. InfiniteHope on 11.04.2012

    “But my wit never manifest itself in anything I write.” That made me laugh. Clever, I was thinking of writing a poem about not wanting to write one or not knowing what to say. I feel like you accomplished this and more, in a successful way.

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