A writer’s tragedy

So here goes. I’m going to share something from my stash of stuff never seen and never to be seen by others. Famous last words. So to my 12 fans out there, here it is. This includes me (to bulk up the numbers), my husband (because he loves me), my sons (because I send them a direct link and then ask them later if they’ve read it), my sisters (because they love me and I send them the direct link) and finally 4 loyal friends for all of the same reasons listed before.

A Writer’s Tragedy

They form like the bubbles in a hot spring
propelled by mystical energy
filled with excitement of possibility
they race to the surface and explode, releasing
inside, outside, everywhere, all at once
“Here we are!”
their wordless cry
announcing existence boldly
they are

then like good little soldiers
these words gather round
consumed with direction and purpose
they grasp and hold
disappearing into collective rationality

why do you run?
I want you so badly
we cannot be caught
they scream in pure glee
we are wise



Now the words do what words always have.
They organize, add grammar, semi-colons; stops.
And sadly in doing so, the best of it
Beyond our control,
we have no other choice.
Even cliché’s must have a voice.

This burden we carry
This challenge we take
This compromise we make