A Lesson In Rhyme Poem by That Boy

In my house, I can see,
Pictures of my sister and me.
I walk into my hall, and I can see,
The kitchen were we should have tea.
Tea in the front room, were we watch T.V,
Whilst I sit and write, for people to see.
This isn’t a Haiku or a Horatian Ode,
This is how I write and the way I was told.
You start with a word or rhythmic phrase,
Then you look at it with a special gaze.
You can move it, change it, model and arrange it.
Just as long as you get the words on that page,
You can write poetry about love or rage,
When you’ve got your poem, you pick it up,
Have a read, have a damn good look,
Then you can publish it, put it into a book.
And if you get famous because it was so good,
One day you will say,
“thank you for teaching me what you could.”