NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT

by The Po whet   May 1, 2016


Holding this pen
was from the notion
that I had an inspiration
to write about.
but now I realize

there's nothing to write about.

I wanted to write about love ,
how my heart used to melt
when I was in love.
but I've remembered that
after one two many
even the staunchest alcoholic
staggers out the bar
...I've staggered out of love again.

I wanted to write of how
I love the summer
the sun's rays
bouncing off my skin
with warmth
...only to realize that
nowadays I can't stand the
heat emanating from the cruel sun.

I wanted to write of happiness
to say that my life is
a sail with bliss
but that is all bluff
and to self only I'll laugh.

I wanted to write of peace
but as I gaze towards
Garissa, Brussels and Paris
all I see is blood
all I see is hate.

I want to paint my world
in beautifully crafted words
for I live in a beautiful world.
but I'll paint not with illusions

....I'd rather have nothing to write about.

    report violation
2


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Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Hello
    I like this because I often feel the same way myself about writing and the irory is, you write something because of it!
    A well written poem.
    Take car,
    Ben

  • 7 years ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    Hello

    A well paced poem with a nicely thought out concept. There is nothing real to write other than fiction when love has left the world and page blank.

    Excellent poem.

    Take care,

    Michael

    • 7 years ago

      by The Po whet

      Thank you Em and Mr. Darcy for your comments I'm grateful for them

  • 7 years ago

    by Em

    A uniquely written piece. Words have failed me because it's so beautiful. There comes a time in every poets life where we can't write about the things we'd like because those things aren't what they seemed.

    Em

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