Writers Odyssey

I sit here staring at a blank page

who do I think I am, writing 

these bits and pieces of life

that have no real meaning.

Every sentence an agony

as I dig deep within the mine

seeking those few nuggets

of the journey I’ve been on.

It’s walking across hot coals

of broken dreams, an odyssey

where the Sirens call haunts

and the temptation of Circe awaits.

Troy is ever in my mind

the broken walls, the burned city

of relationships and loves lost

the scattered wastes littering

the path that I have taken.

It’s not the destination, they say

but damn, the journey is hard

it has to end I think, in the words

that I try to write as the cursor blinks

my own little Cyclops, taunting.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s