“Am I really contemplative,
Or am I just great not having anything to say?”
Often in moments of self-doubt,
This what I’m ironically contemplating.
As I shake out my pen,
I find that desire isn’t enough for ink to meet the page.
It’s not until I feel similar to my dried out pen,
As if there isn’t much left,
That the wall that holds back my thoughts is finally destroyed.
I used to truly believe friends are evil,
while it’s a good song title it doesn’t make for a great belief.
But what are you to think,
When those you trusted most ended up being no better than a toxic coral reef?
Friendship has been, and still is at times, a challenge.
I’d be lying if I said I don’t desire friends,
To have a group I can be completely as I am
that i can learn from and teach as well.
I think I’m finding people like this,
But at time there is a distinct problem preventing any relationship.
So when you’re your own biggest problem,
What is there to do but contemplate?
Here I am again.
Thinking, typing, orchestrated maneuvers in solitude.