Good enough day today, Tuesday lectures will be the death of me, but I'm soundly getting through it. Tonight's going to be a laundry and relaxing night. Today won't be one I look back on at the end of 2012, as a defining day in my life. All I'm going to remember it by, is the man who came to talk to us about nationalism in our lecture, who made me question what any of what I had learnt had to do with Journalism.

This is me reflecting on my own work and writing as a poet.

 

Many people will wonder why I chose to write each day,
After all, I have never experienced emotions in this way.
No great authority on relationships, success or even joy,
I am just an uncomplicated, inexperienced country boy.

But many ideas are forming, an ideological view of life,
How beauty can be clearly seen amidst the growing strife.
Not based on ancient teachings, religions not my theme,
Instead I see the wondrous things that float here like a dream.

Never before have I cared about obscurity in my work,
Hidden meanings or satire designed to make you smirk.
For me poetry is an art form where every desire is shown,
Messages that caress the heart, leaving your mind blown.