Elucidating Questions

Maybe some day I will write poetry and prose worth sharing.

That the silence of waiting, when I don’t ever get it right,

That they wait for something worth it.

That is just how it happens when you don’t know anything, I suppose.

Someday I will write something worth singing, or worth reading, someday the ones around me

Won’t protect me by never telling me,

How terrible it truly is.

To see anything that has been created,

By these hands.

Or perhaps this is the realisation,

That dreams just don’t come true. If you write them down, they make sense to no one but you,

So no one enjoys any of it,

Not even you.

Trying to fit in the loves lives and memories of another,

When none of it fit like a cookie cutter.

Someday.

If I ever want to come back to this nothingness and feelings of only that I can’t.

I’ll read over anything, I suppose.