Treasure Island

bri mar


'' My Attempts At Poetry Are Dead ''


I entered a poetry competition,
If I won I’d give a rendition,
Of what would be my great submission?
I had it all in my head.

I’d use acrostic to obtain a phrase,
Soon my head was in a daze,
This was just another craze,
I’ll try something else instead.

I know what, I’ll write a ballad,
Though the result might well be pallid,
At least I know it will be valid,
Though it may remain unread.

I’ll try again I’ll write blank verse,
In my words I’d soon immerse,
This type of poem is too diverse,
It’s filling me with dread.

Haiku though it can be amusing,
I wouldn’t say it’s of my choosing,
Really I find it quite confusing,
I feel I’m being misled.

A senryu may be more appealing,
But it doesn’t give me any feeling,
The very concept’s left me reeling,
It’s where angels fear to tread.

An epic poem is what I’ll write,
Heroic deeds in every fight,
I’m afraid the end is not in sight,
The result I’m going to shred.

So many types of poetry to ponder,
If only my thoughts wouldn’t wander,
This opportunity I must not squander,
It’s dry my mind’s being bled.

This writing poems is far too tough,
My poor brain is feeling rough,
If truth be told I’ve had enough,

‘’ My Efforts To Write Poetry Are Dead ‘’

Submitted: Thursday, January 23, 2014
Edited: Thursday, January 23, 2014
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Never ever give in.

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