"The Trouble Is"
The trouble is, I want to be prolific.
But my poetic mind is
inclined to ignore inspiration.
I teach writing and preach
creativity while I drift through the desert of my own displaced ingenuity.
Wretchedly endeavoring to mold moments of creation into a vocation,
Wretchedly endeavoring to mold moments of creation into a vocation,
how does one truly know it:
the day one
finally becomes a poet?
I love this im very into poetry
ReplyDeleteThanks! :)
DeleteI like the title of this poem -- and of course, the big question. :) Thanks for sharing this with me!
ReplyDeleteYour very welcome Annie! Thanks so much for reading it!
ReplyDelete