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Ambition
by Dan Linn
I live without ambition,
refuse to face the pain.
Injured in the action,
a bullet in my brain.
I feel like singing, and I do it,
not for covers of magazines.
I scribble when, as I see fit,
for books of paper airplanes.
02/25/2010 Author's Note: For I have loved my indifference.
Posted on 03/25/2012
Copyright © 2025 Dan Linn
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/26/12 at 01:22 AM A great scene of what one might do to get through the day. |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 03/26/12 at 02:37 AM ha, when I feel like singing the rest of my household hopes not to be home :P I like this. |
| Posted by LK Barrett on 03/26/12 at 01:02 PM ...a telling bid for personal freedom, yet still acknowledging consequences, past despair. The last couplet's image of writing for "books of paper airplanes" suggests a certain lightness of heart-and a tenderness for the adamantine resolve. I really like this, Mr. Linn! ty for the write, LK |
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