it was my birthday yesterday

So it was my birthday, yesterday. I usually do the cliche thing and try to write a poem draft like I always do. I write a poem on my birthday, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, sometimes Christmas, and with certain friends’ birthdays.

I went and revisited a poem I wrote for my birthday two years ago, Leaving the Umbra, and I was quite pleasantly surprised at how it sounded to me two years later. I still really like that piece to be objective about it.

So I couldn’t bring myself to write anything new. What could I write that would be new and refreshing? What could I write that could expand or cover what Leaving the Umbra didn’t already? Because it still applies. Maybe the circumstances have changed but the message still remains and still remains strong.

And every new work has to be able to stand beside all that came before it and not find itself unnecessary in the larger scheme of things. It has to stand on its own two feet and it has to  work for its own existence. If it is merely just a repeat of what has been done before or said before and offers nothing new then it will whither, wilt, and die.

So I wrote nothing new yesterday. There was no need.


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