(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!