The Day That I Didn’t Win A Poetry Competition.
The big day arrived;
the day I’d waited for
for a long, long time.
I’d sent off my rhyme,
to the address that was given;
and awaited the kudos,
the cheque…
I waited,
and I’m waiting still.
Still I wait,
as a waiter should;
and here’s a tip –
waiting is good.
How long should I wait,
and for who,
what and why?
Where should I draw the line?
When to do so, I can’t define.
Perhaps now
would be the moment
to.
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*shrug* write the next one … or six
Cage, I think that my style of poetry is better when performed / listened to, and it doesn’t always work as well when read by a.n.other. I tend ‘not’ to win things – but ‘winning things’ is not why I write. G
Have a great day, Cage.
G:)