the roadblocked writer

a roadblocked writer

i put on a show

if i write or not

who has to know?

a roadblocked writer

rises up from the ash

the avenues were blocked for so long

nothing got past

is everything i face

a metaphor for this?

does everything i do

point to what’s inside?

i feel like i’ve spent

too much time making fists

i think i need

to address what’s inside

i’m the roadblocked writer

i never dot my i’s

i start every sentence

with self reflecting i’s

all i want is to

be looked at by eyes

that appreciate what is seen

affirmation is my prize

so what if i did

all these things

that were great

i don’t want to

just be satisfied

with what i make

yes, i want to leave legacies

i want to leave a mark

i want to write poems

and make unique art

but i think at my core

what i really want to do

is see beauty come from sadness

both mine and yours, too