Death of a Writer

For the first time in several years,
I tore out a piece of my writing from a notebook,
crumpled it into a misshapen ball,
and tossed the disfigured wad into my kitchen garbage can.
I’m a word hoarder–
collecting and keeping every word I write
in the hopes that one day those words will
mean something to someone other than me.
Except… not these words.

After finishing my piece and setting down my pen
I began to read–
only to quickly realize that these were not
words I would ever desire to take credit for,
let alone share with the world.
Because these words…
they were so full of hate, anger, suffocating greed,
and misery that tore at my soul in a way that I couldn’t understand.
I guess it’s time I stop trying to write about the news.


**Image: “Daily News” via Deviantart by Vangelis


One thought on “Death of a Writer

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