It’s Easy To Write a Book (Poem)

Countless regularly proclaim, “I going to write a book on my life’s one-of-kind pain, and people’ll be so astounded they’ll bless me with fame.” Their assumption is, they’ll sneeze out page after page. And, to make such a claim…is fully correct…

Composing a book is easy, without things like deadlines at work.
It’s very simple, when all your folks live in town,
you can frequently come around,
and you don’t have to look or feel like a jerk.
‘Cause, you’re sacrificing their precious hours
trying to get those last few paragraphs down.

It’s easy to write a book,
while having no debt,
and if shame and worry haven’t corroded your creative thoughts.
When you’re financially set,
with no bright red invoices or legal threats,
it’s no sweat, whipping up a thrilling plot.

Writing is a breeze
when the friends and fam pat you on the back
and when your close circle believes
in your dream, as you do, and doesn’t give flak.

When uplifting smiles are all you get
and the only kind of cheers
you hear
are the ones that keep your spirit lit,
how could you not think,
you’re as good as literature gets
or that the work, of those not matching your yield, isn’t as legit?

But, try being innovative and imaginative
amongst those who’ve said,
you don’t know to live.

Write gold when they discriminate
and tell you “Slam poetry is the only way you’ll be great,”
or, when you speak unpopular truths and needed knowledge, they ask,
“Why are your words so judgmental and full of hate?”

Produce genius when they tell you, you’re insane,
for not going to college and to really use your brain,
for thinking writing could ever bring you financial gain,
for believing anything other than scandal, black oppression, greed, backstabbing,
sex, jealously, and violence can hold attention, be fun, or entertain,
for not putting school first and taking the “safe” lane,
or that is possible to actually coax men and women’s heart to virtuously change.

For, those published pompous and privileged few
aren’t built for the rain,
with their fancifully frivolous, emotional overblown, unhealthily sweet, candy-coated colored, covers — not catering to the soul, but, rather, just the eye.
It’s what we common folk must write through
while still keeping the paper dry.

And, most naïve newbies,
who assume they’ll waltz with ease through the zoo–
that is creative writing and publishing,
won’t leave out the slightest bit sane.

So, indeed, it’s true. Composition is a cakewalk, when life’s very bitterness, which the pretentious routinely and carelessly write about and misconstrue, is not beating you blue. Very few poets dare to bare the cross the craft demands nor see necessary tasks through. For, we writers are charged with dues of, while our own personal worlds are vile and hideous, making the earth a more beautiful place and brightening souls anew.

From the Soul,

Published Works: https://amzn.to/2IZpspw