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ISSUE NO. 3

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Sections

September 2024

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Poetry

I Cannot Write Poetry

By

A

A writes from Goulburn Prison in NSW.

Mariela Ferbo

I’ve tried to write poetry, but I find it hard to do,

I’d like to say in pretty words, just what I think of you.

And what I would like to say, would be something like this:

You make my heart run wild, with just one little kiss.

When I am holding you close, my heart beats like a drum,

And the sparkle in your eyes shines brighter than the sun.

The tenderness of your lips, is much safer than air,

And there is nothing to match the beauty of your hair.

This love I have for you, I cannot tell of its worth,

Itt means so much to me, it equals nothing on earth.

For the feeling that it brings, I have never felt before,

The pleasure and joy only makes me want you more.

But I cannot write poetry, I find it so hard to do,

So for now I will simply say: I love you.

I’ve tried to write poetry, but I find it hard to do,

I’d like to say in pretty words, just what I think of you.

And what I would like to say, would be something like this:

You make my heart run wild, with just one little kiss.

When I am holding you close, my heart beats like a drum,

And the sparkle in your eyes shines brighter than the sun.

The tenderness of your lips, is much safer than air,

And there is nothing to match the beauty of your hair.

This love I have for you, I cannot tell of its worth,

Itt means so much to me, it equals nothing on earth.

For the feeling that it brings, I have never felt before,

The pleasure and joy only makes me want you more.

But I cannot write poetry, I find it so hard to do,

So for now I will simply say: I love you.

This
piece
was originally printed in the
September 2024
edition of About Time.
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