This all-too autobiographical poem was the result...:)
The deadline has been extended
There’s more time to tell the story
My execution has been delayed
No putting me out of my misery
Allowing myself to be weeded out
The dealine has been extended!
A bird seems chirp mockingly
Singing it from the tree for all to hear
Making me shrink into myself
Wanting to hide, wanting to run
No, I will not run!
I can do this, I can write this story
Now if only I could think of a title
A title that would bring the whole thing together
Offering clarity, giving the story direction
Everything that comes to mind sounds stupid
Overdone, like worn-out sneakers I know I should throw out
Going bad like the milk in the fridge
Pressure builds inside my head, the need for a title
Crushing ideas, shredding inspiration
There’s no escape from the pressure
I stare at my computer screen in a daze
Wondering what sentence, what word comes next
Don’t think, just start writing
No matter how stupid or cliché I sound
I can always rewrite this later
This is the refrain that keeps me going
I cling to it, ignoring that bird’s annoying chirp
Echoing the critical tone of my inner editor
Yes, it may be crap, what I’m putting on the page
Crap can fertilize better things
Allow a finish product to grow
In the full flower of its beauty
From rough, ugly beginnings.
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