I’m not a poet, but I write
to put these thoughts down on paper,
I’m no hero, but I will fight
for influence in this caper;
I’m not a real artist either
perhaps I’m swimming at the edge,
With faith but not a believer,
it’s only to myself I pledge;
Not really a teacher as such,
a student only when I please;
I say too little, say too much,
an expert without expertise;
I’m no writer, only writing
to fill up these empty pages;
No influence nor exciting,
no actor upon the stages;
I have no musical talents
always screeching into the void;
It’s an act I cannot balance,
never upset but just annoyed;
Am I a poet? You decide;
I don’t really care either way;
All too easily classified
I am or I’m not what you say.
Written for the GloPoWriMo Day 3 prompt: write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist – or, if you think of yourself as more of a musician or painter (or school bus driver or scuba diver or expert on medieval Maltese banking) – explain why you are that and not something else!
I’m not so oblique though!
1994ever 