Benched

the hardest part about writing

is getting started,

ideas come, ideas go,

flashing by like out of control rockets,

and try as you might,

you just can’t shoot them down,

some days it feels like it has all

been said before,

as you ask yourself the age

old question;

what is the point?

the only problem

is that it’s hard to argue

with logic like that;

some of the best stuff I ever thought of

never made it on a piece of paper,

they’re lying unwritten on the cutting floor

of this tangled up mind,

never to see the light of day,

they come in the middle of the night,

sometimes only a line or two,

other times the whole thing

complete with title,

but no matter how great the effort

to remember them,

by the next day they are gone,

never to be seen again;

I’m batting about .200

for poems written

versus poems thought of;

kinda pathetic huh?

with a batting average like that

I deserve to be benched.

.

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