Writer’s Dilemma

The stanzas aren't flashy enough.

I format it simple to leave out the fluff.

Like my words aren't deep enough to

Hit you where it bleeds.

I guess my voice isn't deep enough

To shake out the leaves.

I thought putting my passion down on paper

Made me the definition of artiste.

Your hyperbolic, hyper-technicals blinds

The vision of the editorial reads.

I star every email that rejects me.

It's a tactic of motivation so my life

Won't in turn be the death of me.

Watched my grandpa get cancelled by cancer.

Watched a gun flashed in my face,

But death wasn't the answer.

Saw my grandma, last year fall to the same.

Then immediately after that, for my dad,

The reaper on the horse came.

Promised my mom I would never stop

Until she's able to retire.

Watching her health decline,

It's a punch to my pride.

Because if I don't complete my mission before

Another override,

I don't think there's enough praying

To keep the demon inside.

I wake up like why am I trying?

Most days, it's impossible for me

To see straight without a bottle of I.

Am I the worst thing to ever happen to you?

When I just want to back down,

My conscience tells me stand up and fight.

If you truly believe in God,

Then there's no reason to cry...

But, after so many rejections,

It's not easy to keep trying.