ODE TO WRITERS CAFE ''wheres my story?''

protest

 

 

 

 

Three or four months I twisted my brain, a story to enchant, to amuse, to enthrall

A story of courage, of madness and truth..something I have wanted to do, right from my youth

 

I stayed up all night, and out the words came, then edited carefully...you did the same.

I published on writers cafe, like the rest.. A proudness ascendeded , had it passed the test?

 

The first time Id written and it seems the last too, cos I didnt keep copies , cos I trusted you.

You lost it you tossers, and sent me a mail.. were sorry weve lost it, through my heart was a nail.

 

Its gone now, forever, my mistake not to keep, but in you I am restless and now I cant sleep.

There are words, used like bollocks or wanker or c**t but the person who lost this needs a boot up his front.

 

Ill be back to finish and i dont need a copy , cos this is all s**t and like you it is sloppy.