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Tommy sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. His poetry homework was due tomorrow, and he hadn’t written a single word yet. He twirled a pencil between his fingers, hoping that inspiration would strike him, but nothing was coming to him. The words were stuck somewhere in between his mind and the page, and they were refusing to budge.
“Poetry is supposed to be easy,” he muttered to himself, “Just write what you feel, that’s what Techno says.”
He decided to just write whatever came to his mind, in hopes that something would stick.
The sky is blue and so is the sea,
I had a sandwich, it was with cheese.
The cat sat on the mat, so neat,
The sun is shining, feel the heat.
I went to the store to buy some bread,
And then I went home and went to bed.
The stars are twinkling, but not too bright,
The moon is up and it’s dark at night.
I like to eat apples, they’re quite sweet,
And also I like to dance on my feet.
I saw a bird, it flew in the sky,
And then I asked, “Why do we have to say goodbye?”
The flowers are pretty, and so are the trees,
I hope this poem gives you some ease.
I’m done with this writing, it’s time to play,
I’ll start again tomorrow, have a nice day.
As Tommy finished his poem, he glanced over at the clock. Midnight. He looked at his poem and groaned, crumpling the page up and throwing it at the bin in the corner of his room – missing. He sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. Maybe, poetry just wasn’t his thing. He was better with facts, numbers, and clear-cut answers – not this vague, emotional stuff. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the deadline loomed over his head like a dark cloud, threatening to rain.
A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. Techno walked in, holding his own notebook. He looked at Tommy’s empty page and raised an eyebrow, “Still nothing?”
Tommy rubbed the back of his head, sighing, “I’m stuck. I’ve been trying to write a stupid poem forever, but nothing’s coming to me. I don't know where to start!”
Techno set his book down, raising an eyebrow, “You’ve been trying, huh?”
“Yes! I’ve been sitting here for hours, and it’s just… blank,” Tommy’s frustration seeped into his voice, “I just don’t get how you make it look so easy.”
“Let me see what you’ve got so fair.”
Tommy shuffled awkwardly, “Well, it’s not much, really.”
Techno picked up the blank page that was left on the bed, holding it between them, “You call this trying?”
Tommy’s face flushed, “I’ve been thinking! It’s not like I haven’t done anything!”
“Thinking isn’t enough, Tommy, “Techno’s voice was calm with a hint of sharpness to it, “You say you’ve given it all you can, but the truth is in the way your page is empty. You’re not really pushing yourself.”
Tommy crossed his arms, trying to defend himself. “It’s just a poem. It’s not like it’s easy to write something meaningful.”
“It’s not easy, no,” Techno agreed. “But you’re not even giving yourself the chance. You’re staring at that page, hoping the words will come to you, instead of reaching for them.”
Tommy frowned, his frustration mixing with guilt. He knew Techno was right. “So what am I supposed to do? I don’t know what to write about.”
Techno picked up his notebook, “Here,” he said, handing it to Tommy, “Take a look at my poems.”
The Journey’s Spark
Each day begins with a spark of hope,
A heart that beats with purpose and drive.
Though the road ahead may twist and wind,
We summon the strength from deep within.
The journey's path may be long and steep,
With shadows that test our resolve and grace.
Yet through the trials, the promise we keep,
Guided by dreams that time cannot erase.
When the night seems endless and doubts grow tall,
We hold to the light that flickers inside.
For every stumble, we rise from the fall,
Our spirit’s fire is our constant guide.
In the struggle, we find our true strength,
Each challenge a step towards what we seek.
For the courage to persevere at length,
Transforms our fears into victories unique.
So let the road stretch far and wide,
With each twist, a chance to redefine.
For in every effort, our hearts abide,
And in each day, we make the journey shine.
“Do you have any other poems?” Tommy asked, curiously.
Techno instantly flipped to another page in his notebook and began to read again.
Lessons in Effort
You say you've given all you can,
But the truth is in the way you fall.
There's more within, a stronger plan,
Yet you don’t seem to try at all.
But the truth is in the way you fall,
You leave so much undone, incomplete.
Yet you don’t seem to try at all,
The work left waiting at your feet.
You leave so much undone, incomplete,
The days slip by without a change.
The work left waiting at your feet,
It’s clear your goals are out of range.
The days slip by without a change,
There's more within, a stronger plan.
It’s clear your goals are out of range—
You say you've given all you can.
“That was a pantoum, but I’ll leave you to it. Maybe actually try,” Techno advised.
Tommy sat in silence, allowing the words to linger in the air, “I guess I haven’t been trying hard enough,” he admitted, finally.
Techno nodded, “You have more in you, Tommy. I know you do, but you have to be the one to find it.”
Taking a deep breath, Tommy picked up his pen, feeling a renewed determination. “You’re right. I think I know what to write about and I think I’ll try my hand at a sestina.”
Techno nodded and walked out, allowing Tommy the space to ponder on his poems.
As he began to write, the words started to flow, hesitant at first, but growing stronger with each line. Tommy realised that trying wasn’t just about the effort – it was about pushing past the fear of failure, it was about digging deep to find the words that were there all along. And this time, he wasn’t going to stop until he had given it everything he had.
Blank Pages
Each day begins with a spark of hope,
A heart that beats with purpose and drive.
Though the road ahead may twist and wind,
We summon the strength from deep within.
Through trials and tears, we still press on,
Believing that effort can move the world.
The weight of dreams can burden the world,
But in our hearts, we carry that hope.
With every step, we stumble and press on,
Fueled by an unyielding inner drive.
No mountain too high, no goal too thin,
We forge our path as it twists and winds.
The future, unknown, a river that winds,
Unfurls before us, a vast, strange world.
But courage is drawn from places within,
A fire that burns, fed by the hope
That lights our way, propels our drive,
Urging us forward, we always press on.
When doubt takes root, it's hard to press on,
When shadows obscure the path that winds.
But resilience is born from the drive
To rise and reshape our corner of the world.
In moments of darkness, we still find hope,
A beacon that shines from deep within.
For it's not just strength that lies within,
But a wellspring of faith that helps us press on.
Though storms may rage, we shelter in hope,
Holding tight to dreams as the journey winds.
With grit and grace, we carve our world,
Our spirit unbroken, fueled by drive.
Even when weary, we find our drive,
A force that stirs from places deep within.
With every effort, we shape the world,
A testament to the will to press on.
Through every turn, where the river winds,
We cling to the light of endless hope.
In a world shaped by drive, we always press on,
From within, a strength that twists and winds,
Guided by hope, we find the courage to rise again.
Verglas_Mirror Sun 25 Aug 2024 05:07AM UTC
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StellaPinkbird Wed 04 Sep 2024 09:58AM UTC
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