Lifetime member of the The Tortured Poets Department
I was an early enroller
Like it was predestined
Joined straight from the stroller
It was never questioned
Childhood poems, playful rhymes
Adolescent stanzas, with every feeling
Coming of age struggles, confusing times
Unrequited love stories, still healing
Wait, come back you’re straying
Your metaphors are confusing
They can’t relate to what I’m saying
They dont find it amusing
Maybe the labyrinth is in my mind
Maybe I keep feeding the hedges
Maybe the exit is easy to find
But getting lost is a privilege
Other people close chapters and move on
But I’ve made a country of old anecdotes
Find new souvenirs for you to question
Stamp my passport, take notes
So sentimental, cue their eye-roll
So nostalgic, you have to move on
So I go quiet, build up my wall
But the words keep coming, strong
A pseudonym is born
Muse unsilenced, lyrics unlocked
Imperfect rhymes, gutsy, forlorn
Screw the critics and the skeptics
Some poems await editing,
Others bravery
Because it’s always liberating,
But seldom easy
Let the muse and demons
Battle on the page
So little is understood as it happens
Only retrospective is sage
And then you read a line like a mirror
A lyric you are happy to sing
You relate, it’s relevant and sincere
Cos’ I’ve captured a real thing
I don’t write for you,
But you are welcome to my words
I write because I have to
But I’m glad it’s striking chords
Lifelong member to the department
I have the office key code, a cabinet
Can sing the hymn with sentiment
Proud to be a tortured poet
With ❤️ Agnes
