Message to Poetry

 
To all the poems
I don't recall I wrote
to all the unfinished
mongrel scraps
left starving in the orphanage I made
To all the drunken solitary lines
blurted out to no-one
and never met a page
To the devils of inspiration
the stillborn squibs
with their cracked false dawns
sparking truths that never spat a flame
And to all the critical direction
the signposts leading nowhere
until the lights went down
to every bitter sweet burden
of rejection and acclaim

I want you to know
if I had time over
I would write you
all again