Rotation Of Names Poetry And Stories

Rotation or names poetry and stories

I submit my work the way you asked me to,

clean image, careful words, patience in place.

Each week I watch the wheel turn smoothly,

the same names rising winning with familiar ease.

Quality is spoken of like a clear rule,

as though effort alone unlocks the door.

Yet patterns repeat with perfect timing,

and coincidence starts feeling staged.

I read what wins, and I read what waits,

and I measure both with an honest eye.

Some pieces soar, some merely arrive,

still the ladder never seems to move.

I am told to keep showing up faithfully,

that consistency is noticed in time.

Years pass quietly under that promise,

and silence becomes the only reply.

This is not envy speaking through thin skin,

it is observation shaped by staying.

A system circling each week the same few voices,

calling it chance, calling it fair. It’s clearly rotation.

I remain here because I love my poetry work,

because words still ask to be written down.

Not every absence means failure of craft,

sometimes it means comfort was chosen.

So I place this page among the others,

not pleading, not shouting, not withdrawn.

Only asking what many now whisper,

how often rotation is mistaken for worth.

Vocal please give us all a chance to shine.

give me a chance let my poetry win too.

I follow your rules, I try my best,

yet you don’t truly support me like the rest.