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You Are the Obstacle · Poetry Short Short ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 100–2000
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Tainted Muse
Staring at this virtual sheet of paper
Having no clue where to start
My mind wanders unfocused
For this task now I have no heart

All I can see are all the times I tried
To help other people move forward
Not because it was the right thing to do
But to feed my own ego's hunger

In effect I became part the problem
And they sit still rotting at best
And sliding backwards at worst
For really I've become a pest!

You know what? I can say this without cursing
Because that's the rules, right? Well now
Get off you lazy backside you slob
And throw me to the hounds

Let them ripe me to shreds
Then turn and walk away
If you don't I'll just drag you down
For each and every day
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#1 ·
There are enough times poetry, even in the regular writing events, has had a gimmick to it that I'm now conditioned to look for reasons when I see typos, like the "ripe me to shreds" here. It immediately has me trying o find other typos to see if the extra or missing letters are some part of a hidden code.

I don't know what t make of the structure here. Only the odd stanzas have a simple rhyme scheme, and there isn't a regular rhythm.

I kind of feel like I lack the context to understand the narrative. The writer speaks to helping people for the wrong reasons, but then that those he's helped haven't actually progressed, and that's the piece I'm missing. Why not? Was he doing a halfhearted job just because he wanted to seem like an authority figure more than actually helping? Did he give bad advice because he didn't know what he was talking about? Was he actually helpful, but he didn't follow up with anyone to make sure they understood what he was saying? I'm not sure exactly what he's upset about.
#2 ·
When I don't know where to begin
I browse the shelves for roasted bean,
Fill grinder set to coarse, half-fill filter,
Then let hot water flow; ah, fresh dark brew!