Writing Poems Is Hard By Robyn Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, There was a kid. But this kid wasn’t your ordinary kid, This kid was special. This kid had a spark, A drive to bring joy to the world. So this kid set out to- /This is stupid./ Long, long ago, in a galaxy- /No, they’ve done that already./ Roses are red, Violets are blue- /What is this, some sappy romance story?!/ In the beginning- /No./ I woke up- /No./ As I drove into the sunset- /NO./ /…/ …Writing poems is Hard. And I’m not sure I’m very good at it. But can anyone really claim to be “Good” At something so personal and interpretive? All my life I’ve wanted to create. The instant I got a pencil between my fingers I was, Unstoppable, Insatiable, Stumbling my way through art like monkeys on a typewriter; Producing endless pages of Shakespeare! I guess I never really knew what I was doing. All my life I’ve wanted to create, “Shoot for the stars!” they said, But years and years of Crash-landing in the ocean Has trapped me in a maze With walls made of ambition. All my life I’ve wanted to create, But I grow an inch for every mile I walk and There isn’t a teacher, tip, or trick of the trade That can boost me up. All your life you’ve been creating and Perhaps I’m being unreasonable, But at this point, it seems inconceivable For me to ever rise up to the level Of the pedestal I’ve Put you on and From down here you look so perfect In your castle in the sky that I’ve built up and Now, one I have no hope to climb and I wonder If you’re bad at writing poems, too, If we’re both making this all up as we go, Hoping that no one notices and Maybe There’s a person behind the mask Of perfection and idealism that I’ve built around you- /…/ Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a poet. This poet isn’t very good at writing poems. But can anyone claim to be “Good” At something so personal and interpretive? Maybe… We’re all bad at writing poems But the fact that we dare to write at all Is all that matters.
