Do I have to
Wait
Until I’m sixty
Or dead
For anyone to recognise
What passed before
Their eyes
Unseen
Unnoticed
Beautiful genius?
These words
Loop
Unfold
Scatter necklace pearls
Beads dropping
String snapped –
Can we see your early work?
Now you want me
Now you read me
Now you lie:
We knew all along.
No you didn’t.
You pushed me
Aside
Scouted over my head
Saw a gem
Turned out to be a mirage
Took more pathways
Endlessly searching
All roads led back here
Me quietly waiting.
So now you
Can own
Nothing
Of mine.
These words don’t belong to a careless user.
That’s you, by the way.
Sipping your coffee
Browsing the laureate leaves
Approved poets only.
Keep your stinking club
Of self-congratulation
Back-slapping
Empty camaraderie
Charades and façades.
I, like a river,
Was always here.
Am always here.
Will always be.
Author
thinkspeakrun@gmail.com