And endless bloody hope…

When you look at the stars
What do you see
Do you wake up every morning
And think of the sea

I’ve read all the words
Everything you wrote
About spirit and happiness
And endless bloody hope

I look at my life
And I don’t see you
I look at my words
And you’re not there too

Do you do the ironing
Or do you find it mystifying
Do you wash up every night
Because you know that is stupefying

Do you know what it takes
To write silly little words
When the to-do list is long
And you’re not being heard

How many loads of washing
Did you do this week
Or did you sit in the garden
In solace and peace

Because I could write
Write like you I think
If I just had the space
And the time to blink

It wouldn’t always rhyme
Like this one does
I’d make it all spiritual
Maybe mention love

When I see the stars
I often think of you
When I see the sea
I remember I had dreams too

But the dreams have all faded
And fallen from this world
I never got the chance you had
Because I was born a girl.

I don’t write like you write…

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.