Member-only story
Helpless
A Poem
oh, someday’s far off —
and stories elude me again and again
while i sit with screeds in my palms
and wonder why this game is afoot.
power does not suit me, i suppose,
and every story is drawn from some seed
where i don’t know the rhyme or way
till i’m left with scraps but nothing substantial.
oh, i wanted to be an innovator —
but what do you do when there’s a block
on your mind, your heart, your soul?
you cannot further your own ends at all.
i sat in a dark corner,
and i pulled at threads,
and i didn’t know what to do
except say again that i was lost.
i’m no poet,
i’m no storyteller,
i don’t know what i am here
in this space between and among.
where did the ideas go?
oh, they died on the vine.
where did the hope go?
oh, it left to another galaxy.
