The only other time
Ever I wrote poetry
Was when I was fifteen
And pretty awful poetry it was
Generally whiny and confused
Written in a fit of anger
Against the world (as personified by my mother or teacher)
Or from the depths of despondency
(After a ‘I’ll never talk to you’ fight with a best friend)
Never did it rhyme
Have a spark of originality
Or any redeeming grace
Now that I am fifty five (plus!)
I find myself writing poetry again
As awful as before
As whiny and confused
As graceless—if slightly better spelt!
Second childhood I have heard of,
But why did no one warn me
That adolescence and the mid-life crisis
Have so much in common?
One thought on “Writing Poetry”
“Adolescence and mid-life crisis have so much in common”, thank you for the warning :)! At least we know what’s coming our way and hopefully give us sometime to prepare ourselves!