Aiming for perfection – I’m always off target. C. J. Black

The life of a poet can be a lonely one

There is always a battle – a war to be won

From the recesses of the mind

You string words together to get out of a bind

Approaching each line with tentative ease

Hoping when you conclude there’ll be something there to please

I would never be that presumptuous as to think –

That what I write someone may say, his poems really stink

There is no accounting for how people will react

I must prefer honesty that is a fact

It is much easier to accept criticism which is direct

In the long run this has to have more effect

One can learn from people who are straight and forthright

Who are in no way afraid to offer an insight –

On how to improve your writing skill

Which you take on board and can’t wait until

You have a chance this skill to hone

Rewrite this poem without as much as a moan

It may take several attempts to bring it to an end

You can then be pleased with yourself and the poem you’ve penned

Once you give it wings and it has taken flight

It will either flourish or fade completely out of sight

This is something over which you have no control

This if the truth were known is better for you on the whole –

You have weaved your words, your tale you’ve spun

Yes the life of a poet is a lonely one.

C. J. Black

2nd May 2013.