Some Kind of Poet

I wish I was some kind of poet
who didn’t know it
Then, I could pretend to be lost
and not try
or even think
about trying
I could just pretend I was
giving it all up to God
and hoping for the best
I know better.
Life is.
It exists.
It’s your breath.
A constant carving.
A constant making.
You can’t sit back
and watch
You have to be
Get into it
Surpass yourself
what joy is
It’s a process.
It’s a lesson.
It’s a teaching.
It’s a forgiveness
and embrace.
You remembering you
and then moving
with every thought
you have
Picking up and throwing away
or stashing
It’s madness
in trial and error
then you overcome
and it all
makes sense
Don’t hate me
because I wonder why I am
Hate you because you wonder
why I am

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