I am mediocre

Does it ever occur to you, that maybe you’re entirely mediocre?

How there’s nothing - totally zip - nothing profound about you?

You wish to contribute great things to literacy

To write and speak with articulate insight that unites and rekindles souls

Souls who wonder with a deep seeded melancholy

How you can live with these pit-filled philosophical thoughts?

What, pit-filled philosophical thoughts? Thoughts? Who are they?

They are the things you are supposed to burrow out from inside yourself.

The deep, deep, deep seeded theories that you are to bring to light

To slam into the interrogation room of a bad cop show

And get the answers. The truth.

The truth? The what?

What truths do I have to write? What do I have to bring to the surface and face in broad day light?

Truth implies there is a falsity and within that a broader unknown.

A broader unknown indicates to a lack of knowledge

A lack of knowledge involves a lack of education

An education in what am I missing?

I feel I’m simply missing a brain.

I feel the brain I have I’ve overheated.

I also I feel that I have gone off on a tangent.

Honestly, look where this poem started.

Maybe that’s where one should start.

Back at the beginning.

Does it ever occur to you, that maybe you’re entirely mediocre?

No… Well, yes, past tense. From here on out, no. I might be a Classical Great nor the next best poet. But I’ll be damned if I continue to think I’m mediocre.