Reprimand of a Wayward Poet
This morning, a Verse tapped me on the shoulder.
Aren’t you supposed to be putting me to page
And parading me around for all the world to see?
Accusing stare.
I suppose.
Noncommittal shrug.
You made a commitment to the word…to the world.
You promised to pen a poem per day,
Yet I’ve been waiting for over a week.
Condescending smirk.
I’m just not feeling that inspired.
Apologetic smile.
Inspiration is a myth made up by cowards.
Fearlessness, fortitude, discipline, and determination,
That is what it takes.
Brows raise in challenge.
Honestly, you’re coming off as a bit pretentious
And it seems like a lot for just some stanzas.
Defiant eye roll.
You are a pathetic excuse for a poet.
Disgusted grunt. Walks away.
I know. I know. I know.
Head turns slowly, as I watch Verse go.
5 thoughts on "Reprimand of a Wayward Poet"
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such slippery fickle friends-
when verse becomes person
with the verve to make it personal!
Love this convo!
i really enjoyed this!
Bravo to Verse! Smile we all relate to. “Inspiration is a myth made up by cowards.” Going to have to chew on that line for a bit!
hahahaha! “Get back in there and cook for a little longer, Verse!”