Nothing’s the way I want it to be
and I’m starting to see the problem is me
for why should I think anyone
will care about the things I’ve done,
if I compose one decent line
or nine hundred and ninety-nine,
perform a near impeccable job,
I’m still a poor untutored slob—
I’ve got to learn to change my view
accepting I am someone who
it seems is ever doomed to be
obstructed by obscurity.
Are You Reading Me?
6 comments:
You've written a poem about me!
I didn't even know you knew me.
..one with an international fanbase nonetheless
Bob,
The proof of your capabilities with regard to writing and poetry, speaks for itself through the words you post here on this blog page.
You have a following of other people, world-wide, who take the time and interest to read your words.
I am one of those people, who admire and enjoy what you produce.
Bob, the proof is in OUR reading, commenting and returning!!
All good wishes,
Eileen
I know this feeling all too well Bob. I just had to take a couple of weeks break from writing and blogging because I was really down.
I must say though, the way you weave rhythm and rhyme into your poetry is indeed 'impeccable', and something I wish I could do with such apparent ease.
I grew up poor, in a small mining village in the North of England, and feel very much like 'a poor untutored slob' at times; compared to the majority of educated writers I come across. I realise it's just baggage from my inglorious beginnings but it stabs at me every now and again nonetheless.
You have talent, my friend. Reading the words you, and my other online friends write, keeps me writing when I want to give up after a hard day with my hand down other people's toilets during the day job.
Nice piece of writing, Bob.
That anonymous comment above is from me, Bob. I clicked before I filled in the form. lololol
wow thanks for the support my peeps, just whining because of recent rejections, big surprise right?
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