Plumbing the Depths
Racking the corners of my concentrating mind,
for any idea worth keeping, any one that might work
Discarding something after hours of struggle,
because I've deemed the idea much too weak
I tried and tried, but in the end it didn't measure up
I start all over with another idea this time
Maybe this one will work, we soon shall see
The endless struggle to find something worthy of writing about
It puts a strain on my ability and imagination
I'll argue with myself, "Well, is it or isn't it?"
worth putting out there for others to see
Always fearing a negative reaction
After all, this is your baby; one you worked on ceaselessly
Is it ready, or does it need something more?
Is there something obvious that I missed?
After all, it's a reflection on me
There's nothing like the sinking feeling that slams
into my mind when a mistake dawns on me
By now, it's too late; it's out there, for better or worse
I read it over and over, and still there's something I'll miss