On Hold

Is writing worth it? Do my poems matter?

Will publishing another failure make me sadder?

Why put time into something I love if it never becomes a real thing?

I can keep my head in the water above but my body’s still swimming upstream.

The life I have now is already enough. I won’t die if I give up my dreams.

Adding an accolade would only be fluff when I’m already stretched at the seams.  

Is it really giving up if I never commit?

Is my self published work way too much to omit?

Do you really climb a mountain if you never summit?

When every day life keeps you down; you submit?

At what point does desire transform into action?

You strive and aspire to grow beyond faction.

You’re looking for a buyer, spread of word, and some traction.

But lighting that fire is all but a fraction.

Passion is rarely all it’ll take

And effort can barely preserve what’s at stake.  

You need motivation to keep up the drive.

A little inspiration to keep it alive.

But nobody knows to ask you about You.

Your back burner still is kept hidden from view

Until someone wanders across what you do,

And asks you when they can get something new.

Can you really tell them how it’s all on hold?  

How you wish you were driven but you’ve never been bold.

How your last four projects were all but out sold

How you’re feeling your dream is just childish and old?…

Maybe their intrigue was all that you needed?

Your love for your work may not be conceded

Effort and energy may not be depleted

Take one hint of hope and be not defeated.

Contentment is Learned

Life is as good as you make it.

But those who have it better than us fake it.

Because, good is a matter of perspective.

My life and yours are not respective.

Life is a series of decisions.

But most of us have different visions.

Because choices change by the seasons,

My life and yours are for different reasons.

So don’t get your hopes up, but keep contentment ready.

So when someone cuts your ropes up, your mast can hang in steady.

We’re all just lost at sea, where some of us float better than the rest.

But learning to swim is free, so kick your feet and paddle your best.

I Can’t

If I can’t write you something deep and show you what is right,

How am I to be there when you fall?

If I can’t speak a work, and keep you up at night,

Should I be writing you at all?

 

I want to blow your mind.

Or somehow slow down time.

Point a pen in your direction and make you think your brain is mine.

 

 But I can’t.

 

 I’m missing that spark, that pop star flare.

That light in the dark to make you stare.

I’m just me.

 

I’ll never have the look, that award show given face.

Like a plot hole in a book I’m out of place.

I’m just me.

 

And I can’t.

 

I want to write a page of history,

Be a chapter all alone.

Your favorite part of this story,

Bring in ratings on my own.

 

But I won’t.

Because you don’t know who I am.

 

I’m just me.

 

And I can’t.