Cursed is the life of a writer
Who lives with a fear of tomorrow.
Like a closed ring fighter,
Begging for five more minutes to borrow.
The threat of schedule markings
pressing down
The closing door of imagination
trapping them.
Floating in their heads, adjectives and nouns
With each blank page they are condemned.
Their hardships are more than you know
They are true sergeants of rhythm
and rhyme,
Who can make us feel joy or woe,
Coercing the words to march on time
and in line.
Who lives with a fear of tomorrow.
Like a closed ring fighter,
Begging for five more minutes to borrow.
The threat of schedule markings
pressing down
The closing door of imagination
trapping them.
Floating in their heads, adjectives and nouns
With each blank page they are condemned.
Their hardships are more than you know
They are true sergeants of rhythm
and rhyme,
Who can make us feel joy or woe,
Coercing the words to march on time
and in line.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.





Join the Discussion
This article has 1 comment. Post your own!