The Biographer

Stories of so many people I have told

In my lifetime, so many lives I have let unfold

Through my words, my writing has earned acclaim

As a biographer I have in my lifetime made quite a name..

In the waning years of my life, as I reflect

Over my rewarding career, I have come to regret

That the most important story I had to tell

Remains untold, in the recesses of my heart it does dwell..

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I had a flair for writing and a curious interest

In the lives of others, I harnessed both best

By writing biographies, bringing alive

In my words some extraordinary lives

When I interviewed people I had the uncanny ability

To bring out their innate personality

I would write profusely as they bared it all

While I retreated to the background, like the fly on the wall

I was able to include about famous people details less well known

In a humanistic light all my subjects I had shown

My authentic style of writing biographies unnoticed did not stay

More work, accolades and awards came my way

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I wrote about others, taking deep dives

In to what appeared to be infinitely more interesting lives

My own torments I was able to ignore

When I was writing biographies, but I cannot anymore

I have skeletons in my closet that weigh on my chest

To get rid of them before I got crushed would be best

The story that longs to emerge from my pen

Is my autobiography, and I don’t know when

I would be able to pour on paper my heart

I just know I’ve to write it, or else it would tear me apart