Writing Woes: Poetry

Empty Inspiration

Here it is: a blank, empty page

Ready to be filled with happiness or rage

Yet it is a fruitless endeavor

Inspiration only comes to me whenever

It feels like it

Cannot be Forced 

It is quite easy to get trapped into a maze of frustration

It’s finding the balance within distracted concentration

Carving out a few moments to let the words gently guide

The emotions, experiences, and thoughts trapped inside

Ode to Crap Writing

Every writer. Everywhere. Believes their writing sucks

At least that’s what I tell myself each time that I get stuck

I backspace, I “x” out, I’ve dismissed my stuff as crap

I’ll probably start all over again, after I take a nap

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