Am I A Poet?

Do you look around?
    Does anyone???
The great ones did, and they wrote about it.
    (the mediocre ones did too)
They looked, no they SAW,
            And they wrote......
    They did not choose to see, they just SAW,
    And they did not want to write, they had to,
Because people who see would explode, vaporize, disappear, or something,
    If they didn't write.
The world has no other outlet for those who really know what's going on,
    Except maybe suicide...
Some tried that,
    Some successfully, others not,
I can see today's poets, but they can't,
The sellouts, the hold-outs, the hand-outs, the strike-outs,
    Writing much, saying less than nothing,
I think that the poets of days past had a message,
    One they felt very deeply,
        DON'T WRITE...
    Too much torment, and no one listens,
    And they were right.
So here I sit, knowing the futility of my words,
Not asking for praise, pity, condemnation,
    Or even acknowledgement,
    I'm just writing.
    To avoid the path of those who don't,
And failing miserably.


◄ My Window

Cutting the Strings ►


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Sun 30th Aug 2020 19:39

Oh the sweet torment of being a writer. 🖤Write on!

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