Write me a poem little poet they said

So he wrote 

He wrote the best that he could

He poured his heart out for them

They cheered in an uproar of applause 

He felt whole 

He was noticed

He was seen

The next day they returned

Write me a poem little poet they said

So he wrote

He wrote the best that he could

He poured his heart out for them

They cheered in an uproar of applause

He felt a little less whole 

But at least he was seen 

At least he was noticed

They next day they returned

Write me a poem little poet they said

By this time he had grown weak

His wrist was aching

He did not want to write for them but he did

Not nearly as well as before

They cheered and applauded

But less than before 

But they will not love her if she does not write

They returned the next day 

Write me a poem little poet they said

By now the poet had no more poems to write

He could write no longer

So they left

He was not loved 

He did not feel whole

The next day they did not return

The poet was alone 

He began to write

And he realised he was wrong

It was never the attention that made him whole

Nor the applause

In the end it was his poem

By Ashley Angove