I am
Terrible
At this
And I wish
You would stop
Trying
To make me
Better

I will only
Disappoint you

i wish
i could write
poetry
like you

but i can't
so
i'll keep
dropping lines
between
words
until
i get it right

how do you
change
in one day

the old  man
asked
with a frown

it has to be
a special day
said the little girl
it has to fall
on the third
or the seventh
or the tenth
or the thirteenth
or any of these
numbers
added
together

the old man
glared
at the sun
and walked away
because
he couldn't add
and didn't have
a calender
anyway

he thought
that starting over
would be
as easy as poetry

he lay awake
staring at the ceiling
for hours
and days
until the night
melted into the sun
igniting
the thousand
full
pages beside him

he still
felt the same