It all came
so easy to me.
Each word
I’d let
fly with
no testimony.
I could write
a poem
in seven seconds,
maybe nine.
I could write
non stop
like a man
possessed.
But that was
a different time.
The pen could
fly effortlessly
through blue lines
and white spaces.
Notebooks covered
with tags.
A true
creative.
Writing on
the train.
Writing
in class.
I was
on a quest.
Or depressed.
Or both.
Now the poems
come slower.
My brain
still trying
to find a
home
in a poem
I left long ago.
I want to
tell you
that things
will be ok.
Not every day
is going to rain.
Your sideshow,
all on display,
is a game
we play.
Originality
went out
a long
time ago.
Everyone
and their mother
knows how
to write a poem.
Sing a song,
hum a tune.
Its all
been done.
Nothing
original.
This moment
is the best
moment of
our lives.
We live it,
everything else
gone with
the tides.
Find something
to love
and hold on
to it
with all
you have.
Don’t silence
your passion.
Let the world
have it
and don’t
look back.
Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.