Days bring different Thought Patterns

    Writers write, for Short stories come easy,  the simple fact its all they know. I write for the fact its an escape into an alternate reality. Poetry at the times of emotion. Novels are more so the form of living another persons life. There is so much to offer and see when it comes to writing. Some authors travel to see different lands, others remain to see life from the outside. Still many live in a box and just hold the instincts that go along with massive imagination. I am neither of these, at least I don't sense I am anything, other than a dreamer that writes what I feel like at that particular time.

     The only issue I have with writing, is writing a true story about my life. I would have to make it fictional in some way, just because of the pain I don't want associated in the pristine life I have now. As well as drudging up memories that are better left buried. Still there is so much I have lived through to tell tales about that it would be a best seller in some way shape or form. Its still just a blockade I have yet to find a way over or around. A work in progress for the most part.

      Time has come again to remember when I first started this trek into the art of writing. To me it is an art-form, that most walk away from. I keep going back, I continue to be pestered to do what I should have done so long ago. Now its as good a time as any to get published, yet there are still questions in my own mind as to where to start, or how to begin. No longer having the option to walk away In a sense today is the day. Finishing one to send out, but what if someone says no way not good enough, then how will I react? this is but one of the many questions I ponder as I add more to the novel at hand. I will post a teaser here but that is all I can do, anything more and it won't have a chance to sell. So here goes nothing.

Better Off

You're always right

I'm always wrong,

Its no wonder we didn't get along.

The time has passed, we've both moved on,

Looking back, I was right all along.

Now your sorry, what once was yours

Is no longer your worry.

The heartaches and pain were far too many.

To trust and love is harder than anything

To know fear, is to try and love again.

You turned me cold, now I see the old.

How we were, and it leads me to wonder,

Why I didn't leave sooner.

Reality

Only time can tell

When life will start going well.

In favor and not unpleasant,

Smooth instead of coarse,

The fact there is history

leaves little enjoyment for me.

The pain I set apart

Resides deep within my heart.

With no sign of parting now,

Nothing to answer how.

It's all too real, the burdens I feel.

Did we matter to you?The years you blew.

Was it worth it?

Now the time has come, I'm moving on.

Not leaving my heart in a song.

I need to get as far as I can,

From the tortures when you pretend.

I'm standing up for my love,

Putting the pieces back together, and rise above.

Looking to find my forever,

In the arms of another.