Thaw me as a child with plastic legs
And apprehension of a shoe box Christmas,
And I will wait for theme park dreams
And the head shots taken at track speed
To justify the birth I wasn’t there for.
Only then can I recall the great leisure
The work strives, shift by shift, to murder,
As a set of crows just left of centre,
Beating the patchwork crops sown by men
Fed by a clown with a thirsty smile.
Too many critics and not enough art
And I can’t even get out of bed
To make a living or an excuse
Or a mistitled wager on a finish line
I won’t ever cross on these plastic legs.
Ethan Taylor is a twenty year old student studying Acting at the Guildford School of Acting in the UK. He has recently taken up writing and poetry is something he immensely enjoys whether it’s reading, writing, discussing, speaking or analysing it.