Paul Butters

Leeds, West Yorkshire.
Saturday, August 1, 2009

Paul Butters

I stand aside
Within my head
To look upon my image
Of myself.

At five foot nine,
I’m average height.
Brown hair cum black,
Now greyed,
With bushy eyebrows.

To me,
A regular sort of bloke.
To others something of
A nerd:
A trekkie dreaming
With random talent.

To some, a table tennis journeyman;
A joker
With a wicked laugh,
That carries far and wide.
Yet who am I to write all this?
My view
Is all distorted
By God knows what;
From critics oft unfair
And off the mark.

All warped by Life
In all its varied hues,
From glowing reds
To deepest blues.

A rhyme at last,
I hear them say.
Who cares?
For now,
I’m on my way.

(W) and (C) P.B. (or Skryboss if you prefer) ,
Yorkshire, Saturday 1\8\2009 at 23.40.
Paul Butters
Topic(s) of this poem: people
Paul Butters 03 August 2009
To be fair, I'm okay at arts\humanities and science (biology, medicine, cosmology) plus some sports like table tennis, so I'm hard on myself here. So long as we forget woodwork, DIY stuff, engineering........ No hewer of water me....
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