Brass Tacks. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

When they said I could write then why
Did I not try harder

If I could play music why
Is my guitar in the cupboard with the dust

If I could talk, orate, announce why
Do I dislike so much the sound of my own voice

If I could love and commit why
Is she gone along with the others

If I could wish and hope why
Am I content to take less than whats on offer

If I could be then why am I not now
Why do I wait to procrastinate with difficulty

If I think I am strong
Why does my mind snap with ease

Why are we humans so strong and yet so full of doubt
Why am I asking you for answers

And why do I intrude asking you for these answers
When I should well enough leave you alone

One last tantalising question though…

Do you by chance have the answers....?