When I wrote my words down
I used to wonder what you’d say
Somewhere deep inside of me
I’m not very brave
If words are my passion
And poetry my voice
I have waited years and years
Without making any noise
I tried to make it happen
I wanted it to work
The words just went on and on
But none of it was verse
My work is full of half rhymes
That never quite add up
Of gaps and stunted rhythm
That never quite stand out
It has taken me a lifetime
To realise the truth
No allegory or metaphor
I don’t write like you
No flowing words of prose
No humble love of trees
My soul is not on fire
I no longer write to please
I finally found my voice
What it is I want to say
I won’t write like you write
I have turned and walked away.
A Tuesday Latte 