Gabhriel Londe Poems
- At A Writer's Workshop The stained dark beige walls stare at ...
- Resentment As The End When they had rid themselves of their ...
- It Is Night It's dark outside, But it isn't. There is ...
- A Fight Well Fought Is Not Alw... It has been quite a ...
- The Free-Form Poet's Sedoka How does one conform? Act how ...
- Internal Hypnotist Welcome. Greetings. How do you do? Let ...
- No Safe Words I used to write much more. At least 15 poems a...
Just living, learning, aspiring to grow and teach, and maybe entertain along the way.
Also working closely with art, music, and other means of expression in order to do so.
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At A Writer's Workshop
The stained dark beige walls stare at me.
They think they know me,
So they start to close in
To get a better look,
And I tell them to back off.
They don't know me,
No one in this room knows me,
But they think I am a poet.
I might be,
But I'm not even sure that I am.
What makes them so sure
That my front can be trusted?
If I hit the arrogant, foolish girl next to me
Over the head with her stack of half-used notebooks,
Will they then see me as something
Closer to who I am?
There are some poets
That would do ...