Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(1 votes)

RatingRated by

You must login to vote

Throughout past movements
of my blunted feather pen,
my mind has been
controlled by frustration.
Pages of depleted reams, litter
the cold stone floor
of this uninspiring shed.

Those pins of medals,
never make holes
in my sweat soaked vest.
No accolades are ever
thrown my way….

as I tried to see life
as a knotted ball of string,
make some sense
of it’s untidiness
and unravel
some great victory
in my naive soul.

Now, my face
as long
as a vet's glove,
leaves me reading words
that simply return
to scratch and bite,
not fitting,
not rhyming,….

not right.

Related Items


The following comments are for "A Poor Poet"
by ograd77

Worn Out

Depends which way you read Poor..... as in Quality or Wealth.

Yours reads more like a Worn Out Poet

( Posted by: Fairplay [Member] On: June 23, 2012 )

Spot on.

( Posted by: ograd77 [Member] On: June 23, 2015 )

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.