At my first meeting br I got to my feet, and with br shaking knees and quavering voice br I proclaimed 'I am a poet'. br The other members of the gathering br put their hands together, br and clapped at my admission br The leader of the group, asked br about my addiction as I sobbed br buckets while relating my story. br br Since that meeting, br I have only written two poems... br br I will have to admit it br at the next meeting.