How Bad it Isn’t

I touch despair
when everything I say
is trite or dark or transparent;
when everything I think
is a poster for stereotypes.

Yes, there are writing days
and there are reading days.
Even with deeply lowered expectations,
I shall escape through the magic
portal and allow my suspension
of disbelief its full reign.

Then it comes to me,
how bad it really isn’t,
how grateful I am,
how grateful I am
to contemplate having a day
doing something I truly love,
as if it were a punishment.

pages-into-birds

reading-book

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About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Consciousness, Poem, Slice of Life, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to How Bad it Isn’t

  1. Fager says:

    Isn’t bad!

  2. I’ve felt that way numerous times about writing. It’s sadistic torture we just have to come back to again and again.

  3. narble says:

    Yep. Sometimes keeping your butt in the chair is very difficult.

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