Epitaph

Epitaph

It’s time I understood
My verses that I thought were good
May just be that, and nothing more shall ever be.
It’s time I realise
That they shall never change the lives
Of anyone who reads them, even me.

It’s time that I admit
That I shall never be the poet
That I used to think that I was meant to be.
It’s time that I accept
That they shall ever be my secret,
That they too shall die along with me.

Ah, but isn’t that the way for most of us,
Doing what we’re doing cos it’s better than not-doing it ?
Getting on with getting on without a fuss,
Rooting out a suitable pursuit and then pursuing it.
But still, it would be nice to make it,
Still it would be nice to change the world.
Wake it up and shake it up,
And find the perfect rhyme for ‘world’.

It’s time that I admit
That they will never turn a profit,
But at least I wrote them, however unread they may be.
It’s time I understood
My verses that I thought were good,
They are damn good – at least they are to me.

The first half is a poem from my early days of writing, and really mopey.  I think I wrote it after getting rejected from numerous magazines, and looking back now I’m not surprised they did.  The second half is newly written to snap myself out of it.