True
I did not want to be a poet,
I was dragged into it screaming,
But with all my innards teeming
with the words, the passion
that I never knew was there.
Into that maze called “poetry”
Where I never thought I’d be-
“Poetry? Ha! ”
I don’t wear a green carnation -
Poetry was something such
I never fancied very much.
At least I thought I couldn’t do it
Do what?
Write in words that sing and rhyme
And shake and make your heart beat faster
So you forget each small and great disaster
of the past -
So they will all be quite subdued and unattached.
But Poetry’s a two-edged saber
That can force you to remember
All those things you really should forget.
Where does that leave us?
I suppose it really leaves us
With a grievous choice to make.
However, we are living still.
Otherwise you couldn’t read
this doggerel that I must write
for you to read and think about
so you will see
my inward, burning, glowing, light.
Fred Babbin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-ha/
