Garbage Poem

I want to write but

all I write is

Garbage.

And who wants to read that?

That’d be like

digging in the trash

to find

rotten leftovers

and expecting anyone to

eat it.

It’s not a 5-star meal.

 

The words start as

thoughts in my head

and end up like

garbage on the page.

Stinking of second-rate talent.

Smelling like weak attempt.

Oozing desperation.

 

I cling to the notion that

I should be doing

this.

Grasping at my titles:

“poet”

“writer”

“artist”

Hoping I can be creative in

any way.

Hoping I can still make this

work.

So, tell me,

Who wants to read my

Garbage poem?

It may be my best yet.

 

J. Bodwell, USA