They call me a fool…
a fool.
I am a fool.
foolish for them,
foolish looking,
foolish for faithfully pursuing
the shit that people say is foolish
of me to do, but I’m foolish.
I’m nothing but foolish.
“Fool” they say,
fool for everything.
Fool, nothing but a fucking fool.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Showing posts with label Fool. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fool. Show all posts
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 140
Fool Hearted
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