Before I begin this poem I must tell you
I have just collected a letter
From the unable to deliver registered letter office
And now I am at the tyre repair shop
To see what they can do about the slow puncture
Which the nice man at the festival pointed out
Anyhow, back to the letter, I can tell
From the franking machine stamp that it is
From the masters course in the East of England
This I have already determined to be
One of those opportunities which I shall reject
I sent an email to that effect, yesterday
But it would be daft, wouldn't it
Not to take a look, to see once again
The times ahead that I am not now to share
Yet what purpose does that serve; what richness
Does it endow on my person or my personality
What regret is amplified, or stored for future use
I took the decision, not to go
Carefully, I weighed up the pro's and con's
Then, in the briefest single moment I chose no
The letter is still unopened
A part of me, perhaps the undiscovered artist
Would choose to see it simply gather dust
But I know myself better than that
And in this regard I think I know you
I will open the letter
But for now I have to have a new tyre
