You dont even have to know how to spell nowadays to write! Spellcheck takes care of that. So I'm suggesting that writing be it poetry, novels or fantasy, thriller or crime, give it a go. It's distracting, research can be amazing and it can be personal. Here is two of my 300 or so poems that might inspire you.
SOCIETY OF SAND
I'm sitting on a desert
upon sand of friend and foe
Cant find a piece of turf
where I cannot stand on toes.
I collect a handful of grain
Then watch as it escapes
Just like some friendships
a barren temporary landscape.
I create my own oasis
by weeping on a weed
but the sand around me laughs
because it doesnt have a need.
Till lately it be my friends
that helped me walk the land
they holding me up under my feet
-supportive grains of sand.
I begin to sink so slowly
as a few gather my precious hide
the quick sand laughing so loud
a proud man says goodbye.
And as I become one of 'them'
my heart now granulled and dry
I try to weep to water the weed
but sand has no means to cry.
Damn it ! I struggle so
be damned if I be like them
I crawl out of the society of sand
- to remain the man I am....
LEGS OF SPOKE
How can I let them know?
When the dark exceeds the glow
When the sun hides behind the clouds
Silence they hear...but I scream so loud.
Some stand beside a 6 foot hole
Shake their heads and see its toll
They ask how he could have dropped
Out of the circle -a forget me knot
Yet they seem to see clear and there is hope
When they sight a person with legs of spoke
A crippled girl pushing her chair
A man be manic- there's no one there.
"Storm in a tea cup" hurts so bad
Like the cyber crow who remains so glad
Keeps flying and in full flight
Achieves his art...in the middle of the night
For some in power see it their way
Even at the side of a 6 foot grave
Shake their head and call out "why"
"Why on earth- he didnt have to die".
So kind some be they reach out so true
Smile away "we want to meet you"
Bring along your vintage car and your smile"
But leave - what's behind your dial.
So we laugh and dine and all's ok
Leave at home come what may
If I be saddled with legs of spoke
They'd lift me around- bloody good bloke.
But as my mind hurts so bad
Cannot hide my feelings- mad?
Can no longer be bloody good bloke
Sometimes I wish.....
I had legs of spoke......
Have you considered literature?