Half digested thoughts run

Through my mind, unsolved


Sent away half forgotten

Half undigested

Writing is sweet torment

Which too easily turns

Into silly longinglessness

Wording plaything


I start so deeply seeking

The meaning of things only

To find

Words betray me

Words betray my feelings

My longinglessness

Readers laugh

At the serious parts


The humorous part

I cannot portray the

Mystery of my longinglessness


Writing is such sweet sorrow.

The Hopeless Task

By Gina

I want to be a writer

Although I don’t know why

Rejection after rejection

Doesn’t only make me cry

It also makes me question

My very seam of life

Why do you want to write?

When all it gives is strife?

What is that itch of writing

That you so need to scratch

It cannot yet be income

Since few are in that batch

Most writers have no money

But write and write all day

And when it comes to bills

They find it hard to pay

It cannot be for fame

Since that is not for me

Then why oh why keep writing?