I’ve been working on a novel now for about three months. I got a fair amount of writing done this weekend. I wrote this scene in which Michael, the main character, poured out his soul and wrote a poem to a girl that he is in love with. This is what he wrote.
why are we going in opposite directions?
we came together by chance – twice
and it was nice.
I’m already feeling alone
in a sea of people travelling every which way
watching them to see if they know
just what they are doing
and where they are going
cause I don’t
it feels as if everything has changed
just by me knowing your name
things happen for a reason,
is what my dad always says
and I believe him
though I rarely know the reason
till the current has taken me far
the master of my craft, I could be
never the master of the sea
but I don’t have a seaworthy ship just yet
I’m working on it, I think
but it seems like it needs a lot more work
so that I don’t sink
I sit here and think about everything we had
it wasn’t perfect but I see the potential
a work in progress like a first draft novel
the story is pretty good and would be great
with a rewrite, or small edit
the winds can take us where they go
but we can build a better sail
and channel the flow
and I definitely can’t do it alone
It’s funny though because as I wrote this poem. I wasn’t exactly sure that it was for Rachel. I met a girl recently and can’t help but think I was kind of writing this poem for her. Maybe this wasn’t Michael writing a poem to Rachel, but instead me writing a poem to a special someone. Or maybe it’s both.