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I Took Train




I Took Train







We all sat at the table swapping stories and sharing laughs .

We were all writers , we all varied within our skill levels .

All of us spoke about something more , as every ego desires acceptance and wonders what it would  be like.



If  suddenly the door swung open and  you fell under that delusion cast umbrella called success.



They all believed if only the circumstances were different, they could really be something .

And as the drinks poured and  the excuses with the bitter stories became toxic .



I never made an excuse I just got tired of sitting at the table and listening to the same old song and dance .



I simply got up and left and instead of making excuses , I did the one thing that their insecurities wouldn't allow them to do.



I sat down and wrote .

Endless pages and was met by harsh rejections and largely those same so called friends laughed at me behind my back .



They thought to themselves how can a fool and dropout who can barely spell pen something even worth writing,  let alone get it published ?



I never listened to them as they mocked me  in their snobbish circle .

And as I grew as a writer eventually I didn't knock at various publications doors.

I kicked them in.



And started racking them up like pool balls .

My name got around I left those fools at the table were they still piss and moan and now can claim it was just dumb luck in my case.



I took the first train from self-pity and failure and forged my own way and now I still fight but now it’s a tab bit easier and my lines far more polished than before.



Some people from those old circles don't laugh as hard as before most just scratch their heads and question .



"Why him?"

   

I left my comfort zone and got off my ass .

Never be ashamed of your success on any level .

And to certain people still sitting on their asses making excuses .



Buy my latest book and open it to the dedications and shed a tear when you realize you’re not included.



I'm sorry I worked where you did nothing .

How does it feel to be standing in my shadow?

You’re a cliff note to my success and a prime example why it always best to drink alone .



I'm sorry I forgot your name well least it will be written on your headstone so when we meet again I will know where to use the restroom.



P.S.



Don't blame me for your failures I took a chance .

Buy a mirror and say hello to your worst enemy sweetheart .



Kisses



John .



 
John Patrick Robbins 





Is the editor of The Rye Whiskey Review  , Under The Bleachers and Drinkers Only.
He is also the author of Once Upon A Nervous Breakdown from Soma Publishing . 

His work has been published here at Ariel Chart , As It Ought To Be Magazine, The San Pedro River Review , Punk Noir Magazine, Blognostics, The Mojave River Review , Medusas Kitchen, The Rusty Truck. He is also the co host of Guest Haus with Mark Antony Rossi on the Stregth To Be Human Podcast .



His work is always unfiltered. 


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2 Comments

  1. I took this in as fiction, John.

    Until I saw the "Poetry" tag, I thought you branched into a new genre.

    I kinda think tou did, and with winning results.

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  2. Love this ❤️ Nothing like saying exactly how you feel....damn that had to make you feel like doing the Happy Dance 😉 Proud of you 😊💕

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