Doctor Omega
02-05-2017, 03:50 PM
I have never written a poem before.
But it's time that I stuck my foot through the door.
While deciding on exactly the right subject matter.
War, famine, food. Well, maybe the latter.
Or nothing at all?
A blank paper wall,
Filled with my thoughts on nowt.
A literary drought.
Maybe it's time
That my abstract rhyme
was shared in a daring display,
Of half-caring poetical mush,
That will never earn a payday.
So here it is,
Half-done, half-crap.
Hoping for praise, one of these days.
But more chance a critical slap.
So if you have read it.
I might need to edit,
This thing that has now been put down.
I wish I had thought of something more taught,
More drama to each singing line.
But no, it is bland as it spills from my hand
I might need a bottle of wine!
But it's time that I stuck my foot through the door.
While deciding on exactly the right subject matter.
War, famine, food. Well, maybe the latter.
Or nothing at all?
A blank paper wall,
Filled with my thoughts on nowt.
A literary drought.
Maybe it's time
That my abstract rhyme
was shared in a daring display,
Of half-caring poetical mush,
That will never earn a payday.
So here it is,
Half-done, half-crap.
Hoping for praise, one of these days.
But more chance a critical slap.
So if you have read it.
I might need to edit,
This thing that has now been put down.
I wish I had thought of something more taught,
More drama to each singing line.
But no, it is bland as it spills from my hand
I might need a bottle of wine!