the failed writer

The failed writer

For twenty years he has written down

what came to his mind, in the end, many books

with his name on a bookshelf.

There they reminded unsold, unloved collecting

the dust of time.

He tried to sell his books on Amazon and in shops

when that failed he gave books away to people

too polite to say no.

He danced a summer night declaring he would

be a writer his girlfriend laughed and laughed

till he put her head under a lake, walked home

and wrote some more.

They will never catch him now his name

is erased by the longitude of sad past.

◄ sunlit Cascais

cats ►

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