I’m getting there and it feels oh so good
Not waking up in the morning with the dread whizzing about the place, about my head, a look of utter terror plastered across my face
So much so it manages to hide even the freckles
What next, a poem about a crazy text message perhaps
One I got from a secret admirer, not so secretive really if I think about it
This is it, they seem terribly keen, all about the poetry though
My intent, what it means to me
The first question that left their technological lips: “What will you write next, a poem about me? And if so what will you say? So Mr. Hotshot, what will it be?”
Seems to me they got their wish
These messages get crazier as the days wear on, sometimes interesting but for the most part a bore, weak dialect, not too strong
I don’t know them from Adam so what should I do, consider meeting up, all in aid of research of course
Arrange to meet him/her at the centre of Courtmac’ where there are safe surroundings right by the church
My father was right when he said that I might just be inviting this kind of thing upon me
“If you begin to write good stuff, tough… you’re asking for something a little left of centre, something that might lead you to paying for your sins”
All I do is write, no more, no less
And yes, sometimes it can be about OCD, sometimes it’s not
How am I supposed to help it when my new mind, one free of hardship, can’t but remind me from time to time of my twenty year blip
Anyhow, back to the text messages that leave me less than impressed
That is ’til they tell me they are from a girl with a hard-on when it comes to the poetic word
Which even I find rather absurd seeing as I still don’t get it, don’t get why people like to read
I’d far rather lie awake in bed, watch a movie, perhaps with this girl one day, my roaming hands doing ninety, constantly on the move
Is that it, does every man have just one thing on their mind, a way to meet a nice girl and their way they will eventually find
I don’t have all of the answers, the more I get to know myself the more I realise that I’m no more than a chancer with a relative way with words
Yeah, this whole debacle is most definitely bordering on the absurd