Monday, 24 September 2012

Hackers: Writing


I once set out to write a rhyme:
Something to do to pass the time.
I tried to write, but at each verse
My words grew dull, the rhythm worse:
And so I stopped.

I wrote a story, short and sweet,
Then tried to force it, make it meet
The standards of a classic book.
I lengthened it to make it look
A masterpiece, with gripping plot
Great characters and themes: the lot!
But cracks appeared after a while
That revealed a laboured style:
And so I stopped.

I sat down at my desk one day –
I had in mind to write a play,
A quasi-tragicomedy –
A timeless great my play would be.
I wrote from three till half past four,
Then found that I could write no more:
For I learnt that, during Act Two,
My hero had nothing to do:
And so I stopped.

I started my biography –
I set it out as poetry.
Each poem on a different theme,
Like love, life, friendship, and writing.
But on myself, I have no thought:
So I must end this too, of course.

                                         Gregory Walton-Green

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