Poetry

Neither Rhyme nor Reason

I’ve never been one to be static,
I hate to stay in one place,
I’m currently in my 14th house,
Forgetting that life’s not a race.

But I don’t seem to be winning.
Though my speed is quite high,
I look at others around me,
And feel some things passed me by.

A stable job and nice handbags,
These are the things that I own,
And although I’ve lived in lots of places,
There’s not many that I would call home.

Working in many reptile houses,
I knew I had what it takes,
To be banking middle management,
There’s the same amount of snakes.

Defining ourselves is impossible,
The boxes created too small,
And trying to find the exact one for me,
I realised that I fit them all.

So from Murdoch and Handleman,
To Led Zeppelin and Fetty Wap,
TV Series, Films, BuJo and Make Up,
To Writing, Reviews and Crafts.

I’m just exploring everything,
With the whole world as my muse,
‘But are you into make up or literature’?
I don’t know why I need to choose?

I tell myself ‘I used to write all the time’,
That it was ‘only a month or two ago’,
That ‘I just took a short break for work’,
But in reality it’s six years or so.

So I know that I’m not a poet,
No talent rivalling Wilde’s words,
No comical, lyrical genius,
I’m not a master of the verse.

But it is a great form of expression,
And I genuinely hope to improve,
Put in my 10,000 hours,
And make those goal posts move.

It’s time to ‘sort out my life’,
Stop my bank account from being empty,
But that’s the exact same thing that I’ve been saying
Since I first turned 20.

But it’s never the right time……
I just got a new job…….
I’ve developed a problem with wine……
I’m looking after my friends dog…….

But 2017 is the year!
As the 30 bell tolls,
And if you follow me you can witness,
Me most likely fail at these goals.

👑
V

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