If I Disappear

If I disappear
The trees will still grow
The flowers will still bloom

You will still watch the sunset
The children will still laugh

The Earth will still spin
The rain will still fall

If I disappear
The life will go on

Failure

Yes, I am a failure as a writer.

My writing is mediocre, but my expectation is inflated. I want people to sing praises to me, and I am, like most human beings, an attention seeking junkie.

But as I learn, nobody reads my blogs and nobody wants to publish my stories.

Chicken Soup For The Soul prints and sells two editions without even letting me know that my writing has been rejected. I guess I'm not one of the lucky one hundred, whose seemingly average, but heart-wrenching laments, have been selected for the publication.

No one cares about my bad poems and my funny observations of the difficulties of selecting wines for Jews. As my muse pays me a long awaited visit and inspires me to write, life shows me that it's a useless and disappointing venture.

So I talk to God and complain about his unfairness. But as usual he doesn't answer. I just go on and keep writing, hoping that at least He will read it somewhere up in Heaven.