Sunday, 2 November 2014

Poem for Sunday: I Am Not A Poet


I Am Not A Poet 

An introspective poem by Pete Rapp

I am not a poet, nor do I claim to be.
I am no laureate, and cannot claim to see for us all, or to have seen all there is to see.
In truth I find it hard to see when there’s parts of me that are yet to be; 
There are parts of me which make me scream.
It comes often, nightly in fact:
The mirror, the stumbling block,
The question that is no more a question than a merry-go-round!
When I’m alone, too alone, and too much thinking occurs; for I cannot claim to see.
I can claim to see what I have and to fight it is to grow.
I can make a futile attempt
At putting words on a page
For no reason other than a compulsive need to do so.
I know not what to do, or where to go, or how to move.
The only sure thing I know is that I am not sure.
The usual doubts and insecurities return even as I write: these words may be awful by tomorrow!
This page aims for no more
Than a tiny change, in me or my world,
That would lighten the weight on my chest.

I am not a poet, nor do I claim to be.
Oh how I wish, though, how I wish that I could get to sleep.


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