Not Sith,Not Biff
Not Marty, Not Han Solo
I’m not sure where I fit in
If there was an advert
I suppose I had my Leia
Or my Marge Simpson
In times before I turned to
words to fill my page.
Coronation Street is a place to meet
Eastenders somewhere to go on a bender
Toytown has now gone brown a redeveloped
and the kids have their own channels
It’s not like when i was young and I had to amuse myself
Why didn’t I grow up and take a wife?
You don’t know
and I don’t care any longer.
I met a girl or two before and we got engaged
and we shared ourselves all around
but it had no energy. ‘Failure to launch’
could be my epitaph.
Still I have a virtual old time
making and inspiring rhyme
in a little factory unit. Oh No I lost that.
Oh well! I still have a laptop.
And somewhere warm and dry to type
Bloody hell This could turn blue
I could fill each page with
epithets old and new.
But you wouldn’t, wouldn’t
have a clue. Because as I have
said before. I am me and you
are you and try as you might
you won’t ever understand
how I feel when I look at a
bandstand. Poem idea for the future
I inspired myself. It has not been
a wasted day after all. Well all
that remains is to say thankyou
for coming and have a nice day.