Bad Poetry You probably never want to read

The First Word

Shaking, trembling, the perspiration falls

I have so much to say

So much to give to the world

Like a torrid ocean my mind swirls

I know where this will go

I just need to find its hand

So I can lead it to its destination

But alas it blocks my path

My kryptonite

My achilles heel

My dark side

My temptation

My inner demon

A vast land stretches before me

But I am stuck behind a wall

Peering through the bars of a gate

If only I could get the key

Turn the lock and be allowed to run free

I look, I stare but all is bare

As I fumble in the undergrowth

I find what I am looking for

Cold metal on my sweaty palms

But there are more and more

Some copper

Some plastic

Some card shaped

But which is right for me?

The land changes as I move each one close to the gate

It turns to fire, then ice, then sand

All will work, but only one is right

Which I pick could shape my destiny

Keep me flowing through this land

Carving out a channel through the rolling hills

Until the next wall appears and I must choose again

I use the first key I saw

Poke a toe out, the grass feels rough

It is like thorns pressing into my foot

I pull back in pain

Maybe the plastic one will do

I try again but this time I feel water

It is cold, ice cold but does not feel bad

What is that? Swimming there?

Sharp teeth, dark eyes, wide jaws

I retreat again, to the safety of this place

Behind the wall, waiting for the inspiration to come

Waiting for the right choice to be made

I search some more, there are keys

Keys everywhere

Some hang from trees, pretty and ornate

Some are deep in the ground, covered in dirt

Some give an aura of hope

Some tell of despair

And so this will go on and on

Find a key, try the lock

Taste the air and feel the ground

I will keep going

For minutes

For hours

For days

I will find the right path

I will be able to run free

But I cannot think of that now

Now I need to hunt

Now I need to search

Now I need to find my first word