The first time I saw you
I thought...cool!
Well I never really
As at my age
I'd sound like a right tool
If I used words like cool.
But then it's exactly the same
With ones like tool.
So I'll settle for the fact
I thought it was a good idea
And decided to write something myself.
I did...but
Wasn't brave enough
To send it in
To the Poetry Library
Even anonymosuly.
Cowardly custard at heart.
I wonder how many
Actual responses you got?
Not a lot
I would guess
To which I've already confess'd
That it wasn't me.
And right now
At this very second,
Exact moment in time
The only reason I'm jotting
These thoughts down
Is that I'm sat on a seat
Waiting for my Circle Line train
At the Embankment
Bound for Liverpool Street
Which is no mean feat
Onward to Shoreditch.
Six East London Poets
At some weird
Middle class
Arty cinema venue
Down the Bethnal Green Road
Which, believe me,
Sounds far more working class
Than it actualyl is.
But then...
If it wasn't for the Poetry Library
That re-lit my love
For, call it what you like,
I just call it poetry
leading onto 'Open Mic'
I would be sat at home
All alone
Bored out of my mind
Instead of anticipating
A great spoken word show
With the added bonus of
Brick Lane to follow
With bagels to go!
Dulwich Poet 27th June 2014
(I went to a free poetry event in Shoreditch, before that I swapped my books over at the Poetry Library, and found another of their postcards, celebrating their anniversary inside one of the ones I chose, asking for the finder to write something...so I did..again!)
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