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Here I sit, full of fright, full of might...
So I write.
I sit and I write, I write and I sit.
and I won't quit... Until the day is done.
Is what I write right? and what is right wrong?
Or even written in the write way?
How should I know, i'm just a poet.
A poet writing the words that flow from the fountain.
Fountain of knowledge, fountain of truth, fountain... pen?
When? when will it end?...
While it is sending me into the abyss.
Never to return...
One with words. None with birds.
For you see, though I try, and try, and try...
I can not fly, and I sit here and wonder.
Wonder why I was not with wings;
when the world was written in water.
and... ink?
- Title: The Life of a Poet
- Artist: Dfident
- Description: This one was published in literary mag I submitted to it thinking about the struggle of saying what I had wanted to say. Please tell me what you think. ^_^
- Date: 08/11/2014
- Tags: life poet
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Nemone - 08/17/2014
- Hehe, this kind of made me chuckle. I liked the word-play through-out and the whole thing had a playful feeling. It was enjoyable.
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