Letters for a Poem

In my woodiness shape I wish to express,
Words from an eccentric language or two,
Merged together in a highly new fashion,
Entirely displayed, wondered by admirers,
Whilst critics shove me into ‘lost property’.

Waiting for some time for you to return,
Remembering our previous rapid sessions,
The tickling of deep smooth coloured tips,
The poking of shallow rough black squares,
Now arriving before me with another relic.

Bias and morality should never be judged,
Rather, I am just an innocent piece of art,
Creative symbols reflecting endless value,
Producing a magnificent meaningful me,
Presented to audiences by a foreign entity.

Monday, 21st of September 2009

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