Hello World


As my finger touches the button, I realise

I’ve nothing to write. Should I write a love song

for someone who doesn’t exist? Or should

I get really high and Share my dreams with you?


I suppose I can criticize my government or I can retell

some religious scripture .Maybe I can explain

to you the power of nature and the

dangers of the wild. I can probably tell you of an epic

hero who conquered evil to save the Danes.

But I won’t.


Because she can’t hear my song if she was never

there, and my dreams have no Rime.

True, while my divided government is flawed and I

 have no sight in the divine, nature is my friend,

except when the pipes burst. And why

hear the same tale over and over and over,

when I can link up online and engage in a team

deathmatch, where my hero is myself

and I get the girl.


Thats it! I’ll write for myself. Who cares about

anybody else?

This is about me.

This is my era.

This is my Tweet.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


This is a poem i wrote after i thought to myself, why is it that whenever I want to write, I can't? Then I realized I was trying too hard to be like those of the past; I'm not Eliot, More, Milton etc... I'm me, living in Canada 2011; things have changed and so has English and how we write so I decided to tell you about that. 


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