Looking back at unfinished poems,

they are all the same.

Sad and full of shame.

Was I really this way?

Does poetry ever change?

Endless questions fill my brain.

How does one break the chain?

I want to write a poem on something not so vain.

Well before I’ll need a cane.

Something that will help me change my mind frame.

Because I can’t keep going down this lane.

It feels like something that I’ll never be able to tame.

Surely, I’ll have something to gain,

but all I can do is refrain

from sadness and shame.

Maybe all my old poems do sound the same.

Photo by Sear Greyson on Unsplash.