Trivial Pursuit

Writers,

we've

a mission to finish;

Words need assembling,

things must be written.



Begin.



The drive

for proliferation:

Authentic, willing,

struggling, feeling.

From pits

we stomach, we dig.



Burp.



Muse aroma;

coma-inducing whiffs

of potential brilliance

to harness, exploit,

extract, rejoice.

Unearth

your noise,

dirty

the sheet.



Crud.



Mud on a page.

Raw feelings

excavated

selfishly

and splattered,

mashed

with greedier

hands.



Achieved.



Satisfaction

from lyrical action.

Personal gain

through clever

abstraction.



Proceed.



Fashion

something to say

to shake

readers

into epiphanic

praise.



Fools.



Sun soon sets

on our muse.

Light is swallowed.

But in dark

a solution

arrives.



Idea.



We bide time.

Wait,

and re-regurgitate

morrow morning

the trivial

rhyme.

View grahf's Full Portfolio