I love poetry. I do?

I consider myself a poetry lover. So that basically says that i am an art person.  I love poetry in movies, plays, music, and wherever else it can pour from.  I had written – and I prided myself in it – a few lines of my own back in secondary school. Though now that I think of it͵ those were terrible lines.
Anyway͵ on my way to try out some new food͵ earlier today͵ guess I haven’t learnt my lesson͵ I walked passed a hall in which were gathered about two dozen people. It was some sort of poetry session.  I was let in as the look on my face told of the anticipation welling inside of me. After some thirty something minutes though, that feeling faded.  I was then like WTF are these people saying! This don’t make no sense. It was in fact morbidly boring. If a random person read aloud what I heard there in a different public setting he could get stoned. But here they were applauded. What gives the same lines different reactions? What??
Someone stood there and read something to us about ‘water and clouds and trees’ and I was just apalled. If my seat wasn’t bolted down…
Now i question my love for poetry, I do!


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