i am one sexually transmitted disease induced delirium away from the penniless cliche the poet found dead in an opium death
the writer other writers think is brilliant but the normal person cannot be bothered to read a line of as i beg and plead desperately
published into the halls of obscurity to fade into the margins of poetic dissonance unheard no matter how loudly i scream out
tired and retired by the oft pursued dream of ignobility in the face of certain uncertainty to rot as mulch for the talented
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
god. I hear you, Mike. I wish I could make everyone read you. You’re an awesome writer.
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No kidding. Who do you have to blow around here to get a review.
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Writing fucking sucks. So much work for nothing. Yet somehow I cannot stop. Writing or dreaming.
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I hear you. It’s hard to reach people.
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“The phoenix must burn to emerge.” – Janet Fitch
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Not so! You are wickedly talented! But you are also a creative and as such we always think we don’t matter or make a difference. You do! You matter to me, Chris and James, we are family. Never, never, never doubt that you are talented. I will remind you daily my brother!
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