don't now how or where this came from...

[untitled]
so
here I am
pushing on
boggin down
in the thin stuff
channel surfing
through my own mind
I rewind
I fast forward
I think I know where I'm going
somehow
I forgot I'm supposed to care
& be excited about it
As I watch it it gets fuzzy
looking down the road from here
sometimes I get glimpses
of a good story
is it mine?
should it be?
Which way should I really go
I fight to be mature
like a self absorbed child

this story of mine
I hope it's got a better writer than me
I keep wrestling
the master author
I fight him for the pen
and he lets me win
when I win I sit there with writers block
so I loose by winning
& I win by loosing
I can't seem to get it right
wringing my resistance
out of me
I still get glimpses
of when I'm doing it right
[but glimpses aren't enough for me
I want more
I can't get enough of him
& wonder
why he hasn't had enough of me
yet]

by b.e. noll