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Diary Entry 6 My Not My Agent

Poetry By: Indie Skreet

and he did not have a pot to piss in (with usual typos now corrected)!

Submitted:Jan 24, 2013    Reads: 185    Comments: 5    Likes: 2   

My not my agent said, 'do writes,

On descriptive character types',

So I thank him for his advice,

And this is one I wrote for spite.

First time I met 'not agent' man,

Balding head; skin void of tan,

He claimed quickly he was a fan,

But now that's all gone down the pan;

Said I was what he'd been missin',

I took a look and said, 'no kissin'',

Guess I could not stop him wishin',

But he'd not got a pot to piss in.

Said 'we' needed Writers Year book,

So shopped together to take a look,

Had only one, which he took,

Made me pay half, bleedin' crook;

Even when I wasn't eatin'

In coffee shop at weekly meetin',

He made me feel that I'd be cheatin',

If I didn't buy his roll with meat in.

He didn't even own a car,

So expected me to drive him far,

Well had said, 'will make you a star',

So least I could do was say, 'ta'.

The moral? When down on your luck,

You need to dive, run or duck,

From leeches that only suck,

And rarely if ever, give a fuck.

Apologies for the misleading tags - just checking to see if my theory is correct ;)


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