I couldn’t write this poem because I’m empty
I asked myself where your creativity?
No metaphor. No simile.
All that’s on my mind is PhD
and the GRE
And 2 jobs
and a To Do List that reads at the top
GET MORE MONEY
And term papers, and study groups, and trying to figure out the square root of 22
And being pretty sure that my philosophy professor hates me because class starts at 10:30
And I walk in at a quarter till faithfully…
See I really am empty, I can’t write this poem
No creativity.
No metaphor. No simile.
Damn sure no alliteration
Just instigation & frustration brought on by my so-called friends here in the Sooner Nation
Who are growing constantly impatient because that can’t use me quick enough
Hey Lauren, can I get a buck
And a ride to pick my homeboy up
Or better yet, just let me use your car
Because what you do for me is how I measure how good of a friend you are
See why I can’t write this poem
See this why I am empty…lack of creativity
No metaphor, no simile,
No love story, no passion just constant clashing
Because your boyfriend thinks you’re a joke
And you best friends called you a whore
And now that you little brothers no long 4, he doesn’t look up to you any more
Add this family drama
and multiply it by how pissed off I get when people hate on Obama
and how fed up I get with Soulja Boy
and other punch line rhymers
and how angry I am to hear that my little cousin has a baby’s momma that I have no words.
No verbs no metaphors, no similes
Lack of creativity
& Life is distracting me from writing my poetry…
But then it hits me like a symbols clashing in a symphony That life is in fact a mystery, stories woven together creating a beautiful tapestry Each of which speak to the artist in me, and ignite my creativity, and propels me to use my circumstances and write this poetic testimony Through I which I plant seeds and pray that they will grow miraculously like a the rose that grew from concrete And will hopefully stand a monument to remind me that to take the time out to find the creativity. There are metaphors There are similes And I can write this poetry
1 comment:
Well said. This was anthemic on the level of Joe Budden's "Aftermath"... only better.
"Because what you do for me is how I measure how good of a friend you are"
^ I practically pay rent at this residence. Damn good line.
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