Name It After Me

I laugh.

And the place inside me that jiggles with the sound
pretends to be happy.
It throws my head back and puts a twinkle in my eye,
and ignores the voice that asks
how dare I think myself a poet.

I heard today that a famous children’s writer
admitted to depression, cocaine and alcohol abuse,
and still he is getting a school named after him.

I wonder if I admit to being a mimic
and to not being able to churn out anything
unique from my pen,
that I’ll have something named after me.

Just a thought...

© JMariah, 2010