The poet at 19 and 9 days
Has not entirely changed.
Still I fall into my old ways
Even though I should have aged.
Still I bear that sad look on my face
Still I brood over another girl,
I cannot seem to find my place
Where I shall find a treasured pearl.
I have not written a masterpiece,
And I carry more ideas around than cards
I search to find a niche
But I’m just another of the angst filled bards.
So goes the life of the poet at 19 and 9 days,
Still looking for a job that pays.
©Charlie F. Kane
23/1/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem