Always and forever
What sets us entirely apart
Their heart may well be in it, no doubt about that
Not one bit, in fact
A life much travailed, sniffer-dog noses pressed entirely against an oh so angry page
Misdirected, unguided sage
Futile attempts at waging a terrific war on words
Absurd longings, an eagerness to believe that they do indeed belong for the very first time
Mental legends, no more and often far, far less
Only ever on song up inside of their own heads
Not so true when it comes your time to flick that thumb torn page
A letdown, distaste on the part of a hardcore fan, the one who checked themselves in, ran so far as the nearest bookstore, looking to pop their literary cherry all over again
Writers leaving themselves predisposed to rather harsh endings
Too dependent altogether upon their merry ego, a poorly sowed seed right from the beginning
Blotched hotshots
Just that
Nothing ever seems to breathe
Might’ve been so much better off, frustratingly soft to the core
Then, of course, there are those of us caught in mid-flight
Burning our particular candles, wedged between that tepid pen and a wondrously humorous scripture – slowly but surely catching fire
The very first ones who manage to mix quite beautifully both rhyme and reason
Do I speak with a fair degree of treason or am I just about to shout my own particular fixture from the rooftops – unequivocal
Only time will tell
Either way I will undoubtedly need to spell it out

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