All or Nothing

Well, good news... I'm writing again. It kind of ebbs and flows out of me. I know after my father's death I didn't write a poem for well over a year and then when I finally did it was about five a day for a couple of weeks. It's all or nothing with my mind, I suppose. I finally got all my writings from my aunt's house (last thing from the move) and have been flipping through them. This is no minor task. I have over 350 poems/lyrics, many essays, short stories, 5 sermons (from 1999, my "religious days" - I even had a Christian website and chat room), scattered journal entries, letters, scribbled notes, etc. etc. *sigh* It's a pain in the ass to have so many writings. They're very important to me, but 80% of them have never been seen by anyone else. I'm very selective as to what I share (sometimes).

Well, as I said, I'm writing again. The poem I'm including in this post, I just wrote. I mean, just wrote. It flowed out of me about 30 minutes ago or so. It's not exceptional, but I like very few of my writings, so I'm not the best person to judge.

Two Thousand and Five
(by Matthew David Ward - 10.22.05)

Beautiful words and concrete phrase
Sent out to uncaring shores
Brilliant minds left tortured to themselves
The world doesn't listen to the poet anymore

A reclusive soul afraid to be touched
Since abandoned by others years ago
It's not worth your trouble to share your heart
With a mind that can see into your soul

Cynicism and optimism are one in the same
All depending on the reader's eye
The truth is in the words
But for the most part is denied

Messages from souls screaming to be understood
And as sad as it is to know for truth
It's just old paper and fading ink
And now the thinkers of the world are few