Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 23,451 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

Andy Brookes Poems

481. Limping Love Lorne Lines 4/24/2017
482. Deck The Halls With Drunken Jollies 4/24/2017
483. Garden Of Complexities And Alien Concepts 4/26/2017
484. Finding Foundations Finally Fulfilling Fluctuations 4/26/2017
485. Amazing Amorous Armani Accompaniments 4/26/2017
486. Genii And Magic Lamps Are But Sad Dreams 4/26/2017
487. Ravaging Raven Rightful Revenant 4/26/2017
488. Did I Dream Of You Dreaming A Dream 4/28/2017
489. Epiphany Erupts And Eludes 4/28/2017
490. One-Thing-After-Another-Time 4/28/2017
491. No Valedictorian He 4/29/2017
492. Pityingly Paying My Dues 4/29/2017
493. Raven Rising 4/29/2017
494. Green Grows The Grass 4/30/2017
495. Between The Lines, Maybe There Lies The Truth 4/30/2017
496. Unchained 4/30/2017
497. Certainly I Am Certain About Being Uncertain 5/2/2017
498. Not A Haiku 201 5/3/2017
499. Not Haiku 202 5/3/2017
500. Dictionary Corner 5/10/2017
501. Untitled Duo 5/15/2017
502. Looking Death In The Eye 5/16/2017
503. Sober Thoughts 5/17/2017
504. Serendipity Sister's Sidelined 5/19/2017
505. We Heretics 5/19/2017
506. Shoes 5/19/2017
507. Not A Haiku 168 5/21/2017
508. Hole In The Roof 5/22/2017
509. Not A Haiku 170 5/22/2017
510. Troubled Toxic Water 5/22/2017
511. Angling For An Angle By The River. 2/17/2017
512. Black Sheep Blackballed 2/18/2017
513. Nature Fills The Empty Spaces 2/18/2017
514. Tidal Shifts On The Shore Of Ashes 2/19/2017
515. Peat And Peaks 2/19/2017
516. A Meeting Of Minds 2/20/2017
517. Bar Stool Bard, Beer And Bells Whiskey, Cigarettes, Inspiration And Bar Room Brawling. 2/20/2017
518. Filling In The Blanks 2/18/2017
519. Seven Sixes 2/22/2017
520. Rainy Day Blues 2/25/2017
Best Poem of Andy Brookes

I'm Only Human

I work my fingers to the bone,
And I know I shouldn't moan.
Not get upset about my work,
If criticised by some jerk.

It's sad to say, my skin is thin,
Tough exterior, soft within.
I try so not to let it hurt,
When hit by a poem expert.

I know I have a lot to learn,
But cruel remarks, they just burn.
And you know I have no fear,
Of ever becoming like Shakespeare.

I write just whims, airy fancies,
Which people stab with their lances.
With their thrusts they put me down,
Making me feel like a clown.

But be it good or be it ...

Read the full of I'm Only Human

Broken Pen

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