Young Writers Society

[Hi there!!! This is a warning - I'm honestly not even sure if this counts as poetry, but 'random ramblings that seem to rhyme somewhere' is not an option, so I have marked this under poetry. In conclusion, read at your own risk!] 

A war you fight a,

a game you play.

A worthless waste of time,

a fruitless pursuit,

a confused mind,

a life on the line.

Who are you?

What can you do?

What do you want to do?

Nothing.

Nothing.

Everything.

What do you want to do?

I want to live, to thrive,

to find purpose and survive.

I feel useless sometimes,

I have no great talent, no great skill,

I am not a prodigy, a hero.

I have desire, 

but no ability.

I do not know what I want,

I do not know what to do,

I do not know who I am.

Do you know who you are?

Do you know what you need?

You need an answer,

but I'm afraid we have none of these.

None of what you need.

You need purpose,

inspiration,

but where to find it?

You need hope and dreams, 

a thread to connect your seams.

A thought to set you ablaze,

on the inside, propel you into a daze.

Fill you with triumph,

with joy,

with the feeling of having the ability to fulfill your dream.

I don't know what my dream is.

 You must find it.

Not on the shores of a distant land,

on the brink of adventure,

on the whistling wind,

or the blowing breeze.

Not on the sea,

sailing away to destiny.

But on the land,

in your house,

in your heart,

where it resides, by your soul,

by your dreams,

is your purpose. 

Pure and clean.

That is where you must go,

not far away,

but a kind of home.

You feel useless sometimes,

you have no skill. no great talent,

no prodigal power, no heroic feat, 

no great achievement, no wondering glory.

But you have the will,

to instil purpose.

Is that enough for me? To transform me?

and give me ability?

Give me my dream and passion?

My purpose?

my drive? My determination?

My life?

My purpose, I long for it,

I hunger,

You shall have it,

if you surrender.

If you go,

step-by-step,

day-by-day.

This is my advice.

Your purpose will come.

You are not useless,

you are not nothing,

you are not worthless.

Am I?

My purpose will arrive, if I move,

Side-by-side

beside myself.

I will go day-by-day.

I will ignore my uselessness,

I will wait. My purpose will arrive.

I will not drift.

I have no great skill, no prodigal talent, no heroic feat, no great accomplishment.

I am useless now, 

but I will not be forever.

I will not wallow and lament.

I will move, so I have nothing to repent.

I will find my purpose.

You will find your purpose. 

You will find your life.

You may not have faith in yourself,

but have faith in time.

I have no faith.

I will set a goal and move towards it,

and hope that on the way,

I will see, and I will find,

where my purpose resides.