I worked on it all day and night
Until I knew I’d got it right
Into it my heart is buried
So why the hell has it not been cherried?
Others get that round red fruit
But for me, the picker’s mute
I thought my tale profound and deep
The editors must be asleep
The days go by, still no email
My desperation’s off the scale
They just don’t like it, I admit
Wish I’d never clicked ‘submit’
After this I’ve lost all hope
Once been scorned I cannot cope
I’ve felt the sting of failure’s pain
I’m never going to write again
Comments
maggyvaneijk | July 6, 2010 - 13:01
A clever poem with a good dose of humour. In terms of those cherries though, they aren't everything. Keep writing!
tcook | July 6, 2010 - 15:38
Well, we can't have you giving up writing, can we? It's also rather good...
alex_tomlin | July 6, 2010 - 17:38
Thanks maggyvaneijk and Tony. It's true, cherries aren't everything but this one does make me feel better about the one I didn't get.
alex_tomlin | July 6, 2010 - 18:06
Tis true, a nice comment is better than a cherry, but a nice comment and a cherry surely can't be beaten. What confuses me a bit is why some of my stories get read over a hundred times and others seem to barely get noticed.
Dynamaso | July 8, 2010 - 08:46
Nice one Alex. It is a great mystery with no definitive answer. Just enjoy them when you get them.