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Unrepentant Poet
I've been told I write bad poetry,
from those that seem in the know.
That I would not know an original thought
if it jumped up and bit me in the you know what.
They jump and caper, rushing to critize (to find fault, blame, censure, condem),
mere words applied to space, I never claimed to be great, mediocre
at best, I guess. Only wanted to see if I could reach out
and touch someone.
Now before you think that this is nothing but a pity party,
let me just say this, to all who point out my misspelled foibles,
to all who so generously seek out my repeated words and phrases (please
see first stanza for prime example) and just plan stupid grammer mistakes,
I bow and say my thanks.
And with a big grin on my face, totally unrepentant, I'll
continue to plug away on my keyboard. Stretching my
mind around my thoughts, struggling to learn in my way,
on my own. I realize that even if some of my thoughts
may not be as unique or as original as some others, they are mine.
And you might be suprised, I did what I set out to do,
I have reached a few, been given praise sweeter and better then any high.
I have written words that may linger for a while, if only for moments,
a memory on someones tounge, a thought until then they could not express.
All this is fine by me.
So to all who aspire to greatness, I salute you, in the end, may you all achive
that which you seek. I think though, I shall still be around,
plugging away and happy in who and what I turned out to be,
simply me.
