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My Spilled Ink
February 22, 2013
Yes, I wrote it
Yet without talent or hope
Worthless words and scraps of thought
Swirled between spun-glass dreams and age-old hopes
Gentle whispers of silk-smooth mist and treasure eternally sought
Yet talented, I am not.
Many things, yet not that,
From infinitely-flawed daughter, to class joke, to socially awkward to ignorant
But talented?
No, not really, could not be so
For 'twas written by me, as you know
I lack proper rhyming and personal flair
For you see, the talent's not there.
© Lashieta F., Kannapolis, NC
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