Close Up and PersonalA Poem by Chris Shaw
How he loved to visit,
stamping his heavy feet on the doormat of my page. Dissecting each line, a picky stickler for beat, particular with punctuation, with a penchant for a pinch and a fetish for a punch. I always had that hunch that he fancied me from afar. Not content with editing, he rewrote my lines, left his scent all over my work. What a jerk. I can think of better ways to attract attention. A bit of flattery no doubt might have warmed my feelings, his constant abuse didn't. © 2019 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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8 Reviews Added on April 19, 2019 Last Updated on April 19, 2019 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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