Mr. Byrne, They’re Just Too Hard

Why can’t I write poems? I don’t know.

Ideas race through my mind, to-and-fro.

Most magically morph, and many melt

And fall into space, my asteroid belt.

That place in my mind, I can feel the tug,

Oh, thats it! Wait–No, never mind, UGH!

I start to write one thing, no green light there.

So it’s to the next topic–How about hair?

The magic words flew through my fingers,

The clock struck twelve, my thoughts didn’t linger.

Again, anew at an awkward angle

I thought really hard, but my poem was tangled.

I was taking a test with no directions,

No bars in my brain’s phone, no connections.

Thoughts were almost touching, God and Adam.

Just when I dropped my sword , Thoughts! I had ’em.

And with that, I was off, a storm of words

Maybe poems aren’t so absurd.

-Anonymous