Sam Hall

If you have any chance of catching the reference to the title, I suggest checking out the song of said name (preferably Johnny Cash's take on it).

I'm sure my life can be summed up into many cliche slogans. However, I would prefer that my writing be equated with the adage, "Struggle and trials inspire the strongest art." As with that said, I am currently at the most prolific point in my life. I say I've been writing poetry since around 95 or 96. My first poem was entitled Love. My latest, Precautions. Two totally different instances, words, and reflections, yet they all stem from the same pen (that's not literal). It's just funny to me how I write and that can feel better afterward. Nowhere in this am I going to claim that I am good. I just feel blessed that I can express myself in a cryptic, yet revealing manner. I balance cowardness and nobility; however odd the comparison.

Lately, though, I have been dismayed with my writing. The reason being, I am writing more and more on experience and less and less on desire to just write. Let me explain. A lot has happened in the past month. Not much I can expound on within this confined and very not-so-personal journal. But, trust me, a lot has gone on. More than just working. Well, instead of sitting down and just typing or writing a poem, I think about something that happened and I express my feelings in rhyme, meter, or blank verse. Not all the time, but a lot, a poem is simply me telling someone how I felt, without actually having to use a voice. This could seem petty, but really, these incidents in which my writing has seen so much action have really been nothing more than inconsequential and superficial occurrences. Although, one as of late, has stirred emotions within me that, for lack of more poetic words, just pisses me the hell off.

What would cause me to use such harsh and ineloquent sentence structure? Nothing really big, just the common mumblings of people who call themselves my friends. In even more vague terminology, I'm just tired of certain people holding me up to certain expectations. Now, I know what you are going to say. Well, people think a lot of you. O ye of unexpected hype. Nay. Such things are nor right, honorable or true. These people, let's call them, friends, have actually said lower things. And the irony in all of this is, the numbing, ill-experienced phrasing they used to describe actions I might have done, weren't even true. You see, they said or expected me to fall, stumble, or give in and I did neither of the options they laid out for me. I surprised them. They said I would sin and I didn't. Quite disappointing for me because these are the people I share my heart and life with. But, I mean, they didn't ask for the position, so why should I burden them? I will not...