Sorrowful, and polite, but the politeness is a habitual front— something to fill the spaces that are empty— spoken so many times it’s become a diminishing echo of meaninglessness. Your similes are not “lame” though, I liked them, and the wordplay too. This poem stands for what you’re saying structurally, like it mirrors the broken trail of trial and error.

the repetition was in fact to make it meaningless. Thanks for the feedback!

“it seeks meaning, and finds nothing but a trace
a trace like a number trail
trail and error, trial and error. trial
and error. trial and rinse and repeat and error.
error era. too err to err is to be human.
trial and error. aiming and missing, repeating and shooting
numbers like arrows. from the clock
to the keyboard to the phone’s screen
warmly hugging the dark like a dying candle’s flame.
lame.”

This is pure genius. It reminds me of a train of thought, constantly drifting and never being able to stick on anything, which reflects the theme of the piece so well. I’m starting to love your writing, mate.

thank you so much!