the hopeless romantic
a poem
July 13th, 2022
Monday morning
Coffee stains from last Friday
still on my desk
The dreams of a broken artist,
still in the trash
The years that have passed
A waste of time?
Perhaps
All the creativity
The hours unslept
To end up in an office
without any cash?
Even in the office,
with no room for emotion,
the artist in me creates
The hopeless romantic
grows wild in me
I stumble and I paint
I sing and I fall
from every abyss
So I rise early
Barely enough time to worry
if what the future holds for me
is right where I belong
About the Creator
Ms. Rodwell
call her a pseudonym or a catfish, but she'll persist in her pursuit of fabulousness
TT: @Ms_Rodwell
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