I’ve been working on new poems and reworking my old ones to make them better. I’ve also been working on rhythm and studying different kinds of poems. Why am I doing this? It’s all for a collection of poems that will be free to read as an e-book and still undecided in a book form. Then, I can tackle my short stories and flash fiction for a collection while I also work on my rewrite of my love story. I’m not really giving myself never moving deadlines because they’ve moved so much already. I’m learning to deal with this slow inspirational and creative process. In the meantime, here is a poem that will be included in my collection.
With everything I said and did,
you misunderstood me, yes, you did.
Yes, you did, you cross-eyed kid.
Blaming me for things you had control,
it wasn’t me that laughed at you,
it wasn’t me that broke your precious bowl.
I’ve thought back to how we evolved,
split apart, came back for more,
it’s funny how you hoarded your precious dinosaurs.
Once it was clear we were a myth,
countless nights over ridiculous thoughts,
we came to our senses but then all was lost.
With rights not caring about the wrongs,
when the door closed, my dear kid,
it was no longer about your favorite songs.
One of us knew it wouldn’t last forever,
I had to let you go and one of us remained
despite the lost bird feather.
I understood the rain and thunder too,
even though you’re not a boy.
Things are different now but still
I look for you when I hear the name McCroy.