I don’t mind that <br />You took my books <br />And CDs <br />Or even my new set of kitchen knives <br />But how could I live <br />Without my poetry? <br />The day you left <br />My rhythm marched <br />Out of the door. <br />It sent me a postcard last week <br />Saying it had joined the brass band. <br />The brass band! <br />Heaven forbid. <br />Now I can hear it oom-pah oom-pahing <br />It’s way to the town hall. <br />My town hall, <br />Where we sat on the steps <br />Huddled under an umbrella <br />In the pouring rain <br />Making up stories of the passers-by <br />And lovers and spies and wayward women. <br />Give me back my poetry. <br />Nothing rhymes since <br />You went away. <br />The words were missing you too much. <br />I tried to catch them <br />As they flew through the window <br />But they were too quick for me. <br />They said they needed <br />Partners <br />That I couldn’t give them. <br />So please <br />If they come knocking on your door <br />Bring them back to me. <br />You can keep our memories, <br />Our starlit nights, <br />Our sun filled days, <br />You can even take our moon soaked bed <br />But please <br />Bring back my poetry. <br />Damn it <br />Give me back my poetry.<br /><br />Sallie Howson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/give-me-back-my-poetry/
