A Poets Poetry

Sitting in a chair,

Empty eyes,

Lifeless and hollow,

Fading into the background,

All the poetry,

So many words,

So little of it exposed,

Stuck in this circle,

Irritated by my creativity being gone,

Where you be my friend?

Lost somewhere in this circle,

A poets construction faded,

Searching and searching,

Getting nowhere slow,

Listening to my heart:

"Therefore a poet I shall be, Forever judged, but underneath, a poet."

Poetry by Alexander
Read 1200 times
Written on 2006-06-23 at 20:06

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i feel such a bad poet when i read this, hehe
love it..

Love Knight
i like this. great details