Dagda Publishing

I have a problem
And I can only explain
In five, seven, five.

It started last year,
A competition entry,
To write a haiku.

I liked the feeling
The counting of syllables,
The three lined pattern.

And I couldn’t stop.
I entered sixty-seven.
My new obsession.

I count on fingers,
The syllables on digits,
As I speak out loud.

Tip tap on paper
My spidery hands tap, tap,
Checking the numbers.

I saw the doctor,
He watched my finger counting,
He thinks I’m quite mad.

My mother just sighs,
She asks if I want carrots
And I can’t answer …

Without extra words.
I would love carrots, thank you.
Thank you, mother, thanks.

My boyfriend left me.
He thinks I’m a total freak.
I cried for a week.

I don’t miss him now,
His PS3, stinky socks,
Or his ignorance.

So, I’ll carry on
Counting my tapping fingers
And being…

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