My Bashful Ego
By Hal 9000
- 1182 reads
Monday morning
Sitting at my desk
The mutual admiration society arrive
Gathering behind me
Following our un-spoken rule
I don’t speak to them...
And they don’t speak to me
The Weekend fables begin:
Drinking
Women
Parties
Then one speaks of writing a poem...
My ears prick up
As the others listen in awe
Time stands still
His new found sport
Psalms of pain and adversity
Bathing in admiration
My customary bashful ego musters a bravery never experienced before
Banging and crashing for freedom
The words are independent in their escape...
“I... write... poetry...”
They all stare at me... “What?”
Mouth dry
Tumbleweed rolling effortlessly across the office...
“I write poetry”
“Who?”
“You?”
They wonder off and stand by the coffee machine
giggling like children
I pick up my damaged ego and put it back into its box
It’s safe there!
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Comments
I've never had the nerve to
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Great poem Mr S. Why is it
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