I fear for where the world is headed,
Prospects for a bright future appear shredded,
In the drive to become inclusive and diverse,
Humanity and tolerance have gone in reverse,
Militant ideologies being unapologetically decisive,
Making issues more polarizing and divisive,
Both sides dehumanize each other without fear,
Creating echo chambers in either sphere,
Peaceful discourse and common ground are out of reach,
Hurt feelings assault the foundations of free speech,
Fascism, socialism and hate bubble up to the top,
The world becomes what it once fought to stop,
The right and the left have lost their way,
But neither side sees that for all their melee,
A ticking time bomb is counting down,
Is there any way to turn all this around?
I’ve got the feeling it’s time to write something new,
I guess that’s exactly what I’ll have to do,
Perhaps I’ve let my pencil stand too idle,
Did I unintentionally put creativity under bridle?
I’ve been creating chapbooks and sending a story out,
For two months now I’ve been ultimately milling about,
Outside of poetry, I haven’t written anything new,
I guess that subtle but growing feeling is my cue,
Being productive doesn’t mean much if I’m not writing,
Has it been something I’ve subconsciously been fighting?
When I examine my feelings, I see the fear,
But regardless, I think it’s time to get my butt in gear,
I can only lick old wounds for so long,
In the chair writing is where I belong,
I accomplished a long-desired feat,
I’m happy, but I feel beat,
All that time and energy well spent,
In retrospect, it seems quite the event,
Somehow it doesn’t seem all that real,
Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel,
There’re too many emotions whirring,
Is that a sense of loss that’s stirring?
Why do I feel sad about having success?
Is that part of some emotional process?