November 28, 2012 § Leave a comment
New Lines 2
Discarded, but not by me
you smell of half a century
of library damp, forgotten shelf –
neglect made you forget yourself.
And all the words you held inside
were banished, and a sense of pride
prevented you from opening when
some bored schoolboy was forced to pen
an essay on what you held dear:
poems only you could hear.
So at last these jewels faded
and what you said seemed rather jaded.
Fifty years have had to pass
until this bold Northumbrian lass
touches you in the right way
and drinks in what you have to say.