Wednesday, 19 August 2009


I don’t want to fall or be put
Into that category,
To fit into that shoe
That I wasn’t meant to wear.
I recognize the names
I see the familiar faces
I visit the places they frequent
To showcase and deliver
To show off their art
Their skill, their dialect, their talk.

I don’t want to be
“Just Another Poet…”
I want only to be me
I’ve got my own style
I don’t want yours nor theirs.
I don’t need to copy someone else’s flair.

I might dress the same
But I am not the same.
I might talk the same
But I don’t think the same.
Though my soul stays the same
My hair will always be different
My clothes will always be different
Guess why?
It’s because I am somewhat… different.

When I think
When you think
Pre-conceived ideas spring up blind
I don’t want to be
One of those ideas that pop to mind
I want to be one of those
“Ooh who’s she…” (said of course positively)
One of those
“I heard/read/saw this poem yesterday…
C’mon let’s Google it today”
One of those
That 12, 24, 36 hours or more, later down the line
When you come home, unwind
My words… My message… My voice
Might still be echoing every time
Rebounding through your grey cells
Your thoughts but text of my choice
For now I’ll read
Eventually I’ll perform
When I do…
T’will be I who controls my storm
But one thing for sure
To the ‘slam-type’ I’ll not conform.

© 2nd August 2007 – 20:15pm Written by Angela Edgar.
WWW.ANGEE.CO.UK All Rights Reserved.
Unauthorised Reproduction Prohibited.

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