I Am A Writer, But No One Cares Poem by O. A.

I Am a Writer, But No One Cares

A Wasted Life.

I am a writer...
I am a writer...
But no one cares what I write.
If I killed myself by tomorrow
If I wrote readers obscenities
Everyone would just laugh so:
Like wild hyenas, in the snow
About to butcher a ferral dog...

I am a writer...
I am a writer...
But no one cares what I write.
I know I am a writer because,
I get satisfaction from words
In using them to self-express
Any thought I have, but at last
I'm no closer to myself or God...

I am a writer...
I am a writer...
But no one cares what I write.
Unlike my Heroes: C. Bukowski
Sylvia Plath and E  Hemingway
A. Ginsberg and L. Ferlinghetti
EE. Cummings 'n S. Musgrave
Robert Service 'n John McCrae...

I am a writer...
I am a writer...
But no one cares what I write.
I could've had millions of fans
But that is not who I am, damn! ! !
Yet I continue to write, for me
In hopes, I attract two or three
Readers who appreciate a poet..
With an eye on the prize...
Even though I am here imploding
Deep, deep, down inside...
Like ocean fireworks gone awry...

O.A.