The Charlatan

If I was as good as I thought I was

Had a grain of the talent that others do

I'd feel quietly confident all the time

Not loudly uncertain and unsure all the time

Sometimes feel like I share in common

Traits with the magician and spirit medium

Charlatan sounds too grandiose

Chancer or hustler maybe?

Fraudster sounds too harsh

Delusional or pretender perhaps

But magicians and conjourers, card trick sleight of hand masters have merit

We know it's a con when the queen of hearts is gone

We know there's an illusion when the assistant has a body intrusion

The rabbit didn't appear out of thin air, there's definitely rigging in that chair

Does it really matter then if I'm not a typical poet?

What even nowadays is a typical poet?

I may not be Wordsworth, Keats, or Pound.

I'm not Poe, Thomas, Shaw, or Burns.

Too male to be Plaff, too white to be Angelou

Too modern to be Byron, Too progressive to be Kipling

Crazy enough to be Chaucer, crazy enough to be Joyce

But...does that matter?

I don't need to be like any of them

Unless I listen to my inner charlatan

*

Thank you for reading.

I had a spot of writer's block recently. Well...more...block to what I should be writing now. I think it was brought on by being ill.

Anyway, this is the result.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave a comment, click the heart or do both. All feedback and interactions are appreciated.

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