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