Monday, 13 July 2009


You’d think that disappointment would become
Much easier to cope with down the years,
But no it does not, for it can still numb
All hope, and turn ambition into tears.
“would you be interested? Are you free?”
They ask, “Oh yes” I answer eagerly,
“A telly episode, there’ll be a fee,
But nothing’s certain, we’ll ring back, we’ll see.”
And from that moment on, I think I know,
And disappointment greets me like a shroud;
No phone call, but I must not let it show,
I must keep going, laugh, forget the cloud.
Yes, it still hurts, yes it still dents the pride,
Rejection is so difficult to hide.

Written in a disappointed rush

1 comment:

Jenny Woolf said...

I love your poems, they catch the kind of things that so many people feel.