No Poet and I Know It

I used to write poetry. Way back in the emotional days of college. I was actually pretty good at it. Or so I tell myself.

But not anymore.

Last week, I went to lunch with a group of writer friends. We all get together five or six times a year. But one member is leaving the group and moving back to her hometown. So for the lunch, we were to each bring her a present to remind her of Austin and to write something for her.

I decided to write a poem. I even made it rhyme – more or less. It had no form, no structure, no flow. It really wasn’t good. But it rhymed … sometimes.

Okay, I admit it. It sucked. I’m no poet. I know it.