1. five years

five years of writing

got me feeling

reflective,

ups and downs

with beautiful highs,

but the lows,

i wouldn’t wish

on a soul,

inspiration down,

imposter syndrome

setting in now,

i look at old poems

and cringe,

what was i thinking?

they were right,

i wasn’t writing right,

structure’s off,

but they didn’t know

the words were worse.

when i’m reading,

i see how

we’re still

at square one,

i’m older, hardened,

a little bit wiser,

but still in a rut,

my mental

might be worse

than it was

when i couldn’t

control it,

and i’m still

waiting for the world

to change

instead of playing

the same old games,

vegas then,

texas now,

concerts and schools,

what have we

come to?

and i see

i’m still mistreated

by the ones

above me,

misusing their power

and authority,

back then,

a retail job

was nothing,

now i’m watching them

take my career path

and try to throw

a fork in the road,

force me to detour,

when will i get

the respect i deserve?

for putting in the work

when i was kicked

to the curb?

five years later,

it’s only gotten worse.