Lies

Without the scars of a life lived, our idealism is often weak and vacant of any real substance

Photo by Jens Johnsson on Unsplash

Without the scars of a life lived, the idealism of youth is often weak and vacant of any real substance

You may find my poetry in various places on Medium and around the web. However, The Reflectionist is the one place you will find all my work. Many thanks for visiting.

People go to college to learn poetry?

What the fuck!

Hook

Line and sinker

What a stinker

Astute, ambitious, romantic little thinker

You’ve been caught in the game without knowing the rules

They take you for fools

Bright fools filling bar stools

You can’t write a line that is worth a damn without first committing a crime

For a dime

On the street where no one gets paid

for the ambition of love

If only to get laid

by critics, without as much as a morsel

of a genuine clue of what it takes to be adored, so,

put your pen down and go live a life

Then come back and write something that might

cause someone to laugh, punch you in the face or cry

because anything else is all but contrived,

a lie

Originally published by Larry G. Maguire The Creative Cafe 11th Aug 2019

Thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. Every morning you’ll find me sharing a new thought on life, art, work, creativity, the self and the nature of reality on The Reflectionist. I also write on The Creative Mind. If you like what I’m creating, join my email list to receive the weekly Sunday Letters

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