To Be Average Poem by Carrie D'Amato
To Be Average
Good intentions drip from my fingers
in honeyed words that mean
nothing but what they first
appear to mean.
There are no hidden layers
as I sink into the mediocre.
I fill myself with the words of others
and feel not my own.
My words sit empty and unused,
like the ink in my pen.
Others will pass me by
and I shall stand motionless,
devoid of anything but potentiality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 10:26:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
