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Poetry
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| Me | |
| By sueas | ||||||||
| 09 January 2007 | ||||||||
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I’m an expert in nothing and I’m not an expert in anything. There is nothing that I know but someone else knows everything. What’s more I’ve never had one original thought. Never in my being. There is nothing that I’ve thought that someone hasn’t been thinking Feelings that shook the earth or made the skies fall down - were never just my own. There is nothing that I can feel, that others haven’t known My eyes are my fathers and my nose is definitely Gran’s My hair belongs to my Aunt and my niece has my hands. I’m really just quite ordinary and nothing is unique Except the mix of all these things that makes me be just me.
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