No One Reads It

I was going to write.
But the road to hell.
It was my intention.
Writing is a noble
thing.

Where all the literary kings
sit high on their thrones–
but they never stand up,
and more thrones are never
built.

Your intention wilts.
Then, you say to yourself,
I was just going to write
a terrible piece of
trash.

Hopes dashed.
No one would have read it.
It was borne of negativity.
No one needs more of that,
positive.

13262901034_5a1c959af0_cAbove: “Radiating Affection” – Source.

Ironically, this is what came out when I sat down for a 10 minute poetry session. However, I would like to also celebrate 450+ blog views and 470+ combined followers as of today. Thank you all for following, reading, liking, commenting, critiquing and sharing!

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5 responses to “No One Reads It

  1. And I read it too. On this planet only us humans can write converse and draw pictures. It is the cosmic intelligence in us that urges us. The best part of that urge is to regurgitate and asses the initial moment and the sequel brought on by the urge. The cosmic intelligence then drizzzles or rains intuition/intuitive intelligence/ insight. Nothing is waisted. I know you know that. I follow you thru your posts.

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