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What Would You Have Done With Me?
You wouldn't be a thing like me if you were me.
What would you do with all this creativity? Potential spouts from open ends, yet friends are gone; A broken car and broken dreams sit on our lawn. I still dream, but something's wrong; The full pursuit just takes so long. Harnessing potential isn't easy, friends. You may be born with larger brains, but means and ends aren't always the straightest lines, depressing still. And hunger brings you nothing without that iron will. I have the will, but not the way; I have the words, but not the say. I wasn't born into the part of golden boy. I'll humor you for just so long, but fuck your ploy. My car's not on the lawn, it's in the street; It's broken, yes, but it's still true I have my feet, But I'm not going anywhere, not the way you people stare. And you may say this is just my perception, but the world is cruel and full of wry deception When people say they think my writing's truly good, I don't know if they could do the same they would. If you were me where would you be? What would you have done with me? © 2014 Nicholas Emeigh |
Read by the Author
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SoundCloud Reading
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
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SOON
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Notes: This poem was written on Friday, March, 21, 2014. It's about my life, what I've done with it, and the way other people might perceive it negatively. Especially my choices. And whether you would have done things differently.
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