Why Can’t I Be Like Them?

eggs in tray on white surface

I can’t write like them

But I’m right to write on a whim

My prose aren’t as tight, concise

Light, bright and nice

But no matter who I compare to

I share true that I dare to

Think that, while I’m never better,

I’d rather never settle

I bet all that I have

That my writing’s a salve

A refreshing, healing balm

I’m not a Freshman, but I feel no qualms

With being a life long learner

Leaning towards being leaner

Precise, concise

exercising poetic devices

I like that I can’t be like others

The market saturated and smothered

I don’t have it in me

I don’t have the ability

To write like Frost or Mathers

But that doesn’t matter

So long as my writing pleases

I write for your pleasure

Leave a Reply