paradoxical
03-24-2012, 04:29 AM
he sat at the table,
trying to write
there were no children
screaming outside
and the neighbors were asleep
on nights like these,
he tried to work on the poetry
he looked at his hands,
he looked at the blank page,
then stood up and
walked to the window
“Stupid," he thought,
he would never be a writer,
he would never be much of anything.
he walked back to the table
and looked at his notebook
it all seemed so pointless
he reached in his pocket
and found two dollar bills,
he counted his change,
spread it on the table: $2.45
that was enough for a 24 ounce Tecate
he put on his coat
and walked out the door
trying to write
there were no children
screaming outside
and the neighbors were asleep
on nights like these,
he tried to work on the poetry
he looked at his hands,
he looked at the blank page,
then stood up and
walked to the window
“Stupid," he thought,
he would never be a writer,
he would never be much of anything.
he walked back to the table
and looked at his notebook
it all seemed so pointless
he reached in his pocket
and found two dollar bills,
he counted his change,
spread it on the table: $2.45
that was enough for a 24 ounce Tecate
he put on his coat
and walked out the door