A Poem to Celebrate the Fact that I Cannot Write It

(I wrote this poem off of the top of my head, as I’m going to be taking some pieces up to the university on Monday in order to hopefully get a better chance of getting a place, considering that I am highly likely not to get the grade I want)

A Poem to Celebrate the Fact that I Cannot Write It

By HJ Street


It is fair to say that I cannot

Write a Poem to save my life

No matter how I try and Try

The life of a Poet is not for me


I strive to write it, I really do

No matter the time of day

But, alas, I cannot rhyme

I know the life of a Romantic is not for me


I now recall at this point

My last attempt to rhyme

It was but two long years ago

When sat at my school desk during my GCSEs

The task was to write a poem

In the style of John Clare

A Romantic poet most sublime

But alas I did not know

Whether a free verse about a dead dog would do


So I tried, I really did

To win a losing fight

But, try as I might,

The mangled mess raised the most concerned of brows


Perhaps I was too blunt with the imagery?

Perhaps my rhythm didn’t quite work?

But I shall never learn,

Why that dead dog didn’t quite cut it as a poem


But indeed there is something I do know.


I know that I shall celebrate,

The fact that I cannot write poetry, 

But there is one thing that I shall forever do, 

I shall surely stick to prose from this day on!



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