If you put me in a toaster,
Think that I wouldn't pop out.
Life for me isn't the meal,
I thought it would be.
Nothing's gone to plan,
That's why in circles.
They know me,
As the non-stick man.
I'm in a class of one,
A lore unto oneself.
Not really worth the read,
So pop me back onto the shelf.
I have no way of remembering,
What I've written, I never can.
Short term memories gone today,
Long-term memories to far away.
My memory broken you cannot fix,
Even if you could nothing sticks.
So stick my poems in a dustbin,
Or drown them if you can.
That's why they call me,
The non-stick man.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 57 times
Written on 2023-05-23 at 00:15

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