This is Me in a Day
I am a poet
And I know it as fact
I may not be a pistol fully loaded
But I know my words like magnets attracts those who either like or despise
And surmize that I have no talent
I care not for I keep going pushing on the anvil with my mallet
Expressing myself the best way I know how
The turmoil, joy, pain, it blows out
Like moths to the flame my words come and stick to the paper whichever it may be
Am I wrong to do what I do?
I care not for I write whats in my heart
And I portray what’s inside
And that divides me from all those who come before and all who shall come after
I take the risks despite there jibes and sneers of derition
Despite the laughter and sly looks
and there laughter
I say come on ye bastards
Far men better then you have attempted to fell the mighty oak and I have failed prior
(2015)
