MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

! A Poet

He — or was it she?
was a child who said little
but walked, endlessly, just looking

or stood still for minutes, hours,
and became what they looked at

was from a large family
but still people said, you’re an only child aren’t you

was it seems very happy in themself
but no-one asked, so never said

kept themself to themself, which annoyed
other children, who bullied them

and then were even more annoyed
when they didn’t play the victim

failed examinations and yet
was always wrapt up in a book

occasionally did things like cutting themselves
and was told off but never questioned usefully

wrote poems secretly but was unconcerned
whether people read them or not

was good to be with as long as you
didn’t expect anything of them

was secretly loved by some
who never liked to say so

because what they loved somehow
didn’t have a name

years later, some of them read the poems
and knew what they had loved

User Rating: 2,7 / 5 ( 60 votes ) 21

Comments (21)

A Poet! ! Years later. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem is good, simple and takes the reader thru a circle of life and ends him in a comforting triangle...kudos
there is a lot of things England may not be proud of. but they may be proud of you. thanks for your humanity. john
Oh micheal you filled up my shoes completely had I met you when I was 10 I wouldn't have told you my secret even if it was your secret too.10 again
a good poem about the poet..well expressed
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