Publishing my Poetry?

I recently sent in a poem that I wrote in September to a writing contest, just to see what would happen and to make a little money if possible. Throughout my writing endeavors, poetry has been my greatest foe. I've never read it very much, because I usually don't like the ones they make you read in English class. As a result, I didn't exactly enjoy writing it, either. However, I've found that it can be an excellent outlet for expressing emotion without making a full length novel out if. But back to the beginning: that writing company recently contacted me asking if they could publish the poem I sent in their anthology. But I won't upload that poem here because who knows, you may get to read the published version one of these days! Today, I'm going to share something with you which I am honestly far more proud of, just to show you how I've progressed in my poetry skills.

Against the Clock

Tis queer to think that when something begins, you cannot foresee how it might end

Friendships may perish with one conversation, while enemies become objects of flirtation

A love you swore would last forever, you’d now throw away for a handsome whoever

And the one you felt certain would forsake you, commits to see all your hardships through

Passions never previously experienced, will leave you breathless and delirious

Yet those too will crash and burn, every heartbreaking downfall provides something to learn

Vocations and hobbies from youthful days, will come to make your life in so many ways              Back then, time was a thing of endless stock; now you’re simply racing against the clock

Childhood not cherished when you lived there, now you dream to return to a world without care

Despite the unpredictability of life, and the sorrow of bearing unspoken strife

It’s nice to laugh because we don’t know, how each circumstance intends to make us grow

You may not see which relationships die, but you wouldn’t be you if life were otherwise

Rather than shake your fist at the past, remember the ones who have turned up at last

If it weren’t for the heartache of which life consists, so many things might not even exist

Think of the people you may never have met, those friends who will forever have your debt

And even though that lover changed his mind, you can’t deny he was a memorable find

Those who weren’t the friends they seemed, changed destiny in ways you couldn’t dream

Darling, don’t wish away a single thing; right now you can’t realize what good it shall bring

That’s half the joy; not knowing what’s next, and one little moment can have so many effects

Tis queer to think that when something begins, you cannot foresee how it might end

I hope you enjoyed this little post; let me know what you thought of my work and be sure to fill me in on your experiences with writing poetry. Happy Sunday, y'all!