Do you ever think it’s a game?
words that are squared and then
given a name are words after all and
all the same.
do you ever feel inspired to write?
to burn midnight oil where inspiration
drifts in and it’s like second sight
and what is it you write?
primroses? the beauty of blooms?
the cold sweat of prison in bare empty rooms?
have you spread ink over life after death and then drawn in a breath and wrote more?
what do we write for?
I don’t ask for
who because only you
This charade falls on deaf ears
no one there to ask about the whys or the wherefores
I’m the two dollar whore
in the ten dollar line and it’s
a little like writing, am
I wasting my time?
They’ll set the alphabet on me to hunt me down
crimes against the language versus the crown and I am
guilty as charged.
© 2017, John Smallshaw.