How To Write Good
Poem 7: How to Write Good (Free Verse)
I begin
I press my pen to the paper
Ink flows out into a black smear on the page
A river of darkness trials out from the tip of the pen
Leading my mind into a spiral of words
of rhymes, of syllables, of meter
The only discernable thought being
Write
Write
Write
Seconds pass.
Minutes pass.
Hours pass.
Eventually when my hand is trembling
And my mind is truly empty
I stop.
Slowly,
As I retract my hand from the paper,
And reflect on what has been frantically scribbled on the page
I realize
It’s not how to write good
It’s how to write well
I pray my teacher doesn’t notice
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