"Yeah Right !"



Yeah well here it is,
I said I'd make the point,
I sat down without the pen this time
To see what happens when I type,
And guess what?
This is it!

The border page is pink,
Which is hardly me.
Not the stuff I look at when I'm trying to think
Which doesn't happen often
And that is plain to see,

I try to visualise your room
Where you sit staring at the page.
I wonder what it takes to light your fire,
And what mood you're in tonight.
Most of you confused like me
What are your desires?

What is that mask you hide behind?
From where you throw these morsels out?
I try to look behind the screen
To see into your wildest dream.
You think I'm crazy,.. look at you!
Teetering with doubt!

If I you want to know the truth,
Writing's bizarre as modern art to me.
I blow my nose for all to see
And hold it blowing in the wind.
They read it and then quite peculiarly
Leave things that say it's so profound!
It's just a rage,
It has no sound,
It only happens when I write.
For just a second, day or night.
Poet?
Me?
Yeah right !

PB 25/05/2002



© PETE BRAVEN

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