I write poetry.
There are many things I could do in my spare time,
But I write poetry.
There are many things I could splurge on, I could spend recklessly
But the only investment that fills these internal voids
Is writing poetry.
No matter what job title I have ever held no matter what diagnosis was listed,
No matter the degree obtained or meekly sought after,
No matter how eloquent how well stated no matter the rhymes of time or how the form of life presents,
No matter how centered nature walks make me,
After prayer and failed attempts to meditate,
After opening my heart to God, wishing I could negotiate
Realizing that I am not in control here:
What I can control is that I write poetry.
I can hope and pray for the “big break” someday, but whether that comes or not, I’ll still write poetry.
And maybe one day they laugh and they’ll say: “Remember that wild crazy chick? Man she sure could write poetry.”