Delusions Of Grandeur: (In The Early Years Of The 21st Century) Poem by DM W

We once took part in the amateur hour;
In the dark basement of a cold Arts centre
We thought that we were such precious flowers.
And that our souls were fragrantly scented
O we were at the height of our powers!
But after that things began to turn sour
O looking back we were so deluded!
For we were not masters; merely students.
The musicians played with great seriousness.
They were followed by brain dead comedians.
Next it was our turn to enter the scene.
We walked on stage to fulfil our dreams.
Then we began to read our poetry;
Which seemed to fall upon deaf ears.
We performed extracts from our latest works.
We strived very hard to please not to irk.
We thought of ourselves as modern Romantics,
When in reality we were faking it.
We tried to emphasise every golden word.
We wanted our poems to sing like the birds.
But the audience looked decidedly bored,
And we left the stage to muted applause.