Wednesday, 21 May 2014

May 21: I'm a wannabe writer, oh yes I am ...


We’re wannabe writers, we meet to discuss
No-one knows we do it, well no-one but us
In Surry Hills we unite, at Pete’s place no less
Where we all have to do it, read our lines, we confess

Whatever we’ve written, just read it out loud
Nobody cares you don’t like it, just read it, be proud
We’re all just beginners, like kids starting out
You’ve got to keep trying, “Keep reading”, we shout

There’s Lily who writes with cartoons to amuse
And Pete who confesses about things he once did use
And Sam who so serious, his characters they disclose
Their innermost secrets, that he includes within his prose

While Paul in his stories attempts to invite
You into his world, his arena, his fight
His world is a cauldron, of criminals and liars
The heat and the fuel, no wonder there’s fires

But Sophie she cried, “I am out of my league”
We said, “That is rubbish, what have you achieved”
She read us a story, direct from her heart
It was just a ripper, her thoughts she’d impart

In a fortnight we’ll discuss, devoid of red faces
Where our literature it takes us, to all different places
It’s good for the heart, the soul and the mind
For when we discuss, who knows what we’ll find

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